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THE LIBRARY OF CHOICE FICTION 


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‘•She saw her lover's corpse, and. frenzied with grief, rushed int 

the water.’’ 




THE 


LEAGUE OF GUILT 


OR 

A GREAT DETECTIVE’S GREATEST CASE 


BY 

INSPECTOR MURRAY 



Copyright, 1892, by Laird & Lee 




CHICAGO 

LAIRD & LEE, Publishers 
1893 


& 


I 


P2 3 


The Pinkerton Detective Series. 

EVERY NUMBLR ILLUSTRATED AND COPYRIGHTED. 

All Stories of Real Crimes, narrated by the very men who 
tracked the malefactors to their fate. 

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A DARING HORSE-THIEF. 

THE ONE-HANDED BURGLAR. 

THE GREAT TRUNK TRAGEDY. 

DETECTIVE AGAINST DETECTIVE. 

A STRUGGLE FOR MILLIONS. 

THE GREAT CRONIN MYSTERY. 

FALSELY ACCUSED; or, Who was Guilty? 

THE ICE POND MYSTERY. 

A CRIMINAL qUEEN. 

MEXICAN BILL, the Cowboy Detective. 

THE SEVERED HEAD; or, a Terrible Confession. 

FRED. BENNETT, the Mormon Detective. 

THE STOLEN WILL; or, The Rokewood Tragedy. 
THE MAIL ROBBER. 

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by the Publishers, 

LAIRD & LEE, CHICAGO. 


Ady. H. 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 

OR 

A GREAT DETECTIVE’S GREATEST CASE 
CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCING SELF AND SUNDRY 

As there will be a great deal of “me” in this story, 
and as I alone know of the snarled-up threads and 
intermingling mysteries and crimes necessary to be 
followed up and unraveled before concluding the 
task of my life; — for all these reasons I must have 
my own way in telling the tale. If wide skips in lat- 
itude, incident and characters occur, the tangled skein 
will be finally untangled and wound-up to the full 
satisfaction of the reader and certain, though tardy, 
justice. 


“My good woman,” I said, struggling hard to con- 
trol my temper, “this letter is of the utmost impor- 
tance; it must be taken to Waltham Manor to- 
night.” 

But though I spoke in my most autocratic man- 
ner, in my heart of hearts I knew that she, not I, 
7 


8 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


was master, or mistress, of the situation. I think 
she knew it too, judging by the gentle, deprecating 
way in which she smiled; a woman never looks so 
frail and reed-like as when she is possessed of power 
and bent on using it. 

“This note must be taken to Waltham Manor to- 
night,” I repeated, emphatically. 

“Certainly, sir; I make sure when the master comes 
he will lend you the mare,” the farmer’s wife replied 
gently. She was a Berkshire woman, and her soft 
southern accent came to me as a welcome relief after 
a day spent in a vain endeavor to understand the 
strange semi-Gaelic dialect of the Dalers. 

“But you say you don’t know when he will come 
— perhaps not to-night,” I protested. 

“Why, sir, you see it all depends on them sheep, 
and sheep are the most unreckonable of creatures. 
If the master has sold them all I’m pretty sure we 
shall see him to-night — though he might go on to 
Pateley for the market,” she added, meditatively. 

“There, now, you see yourself we cannot rely up- 
on him. I must find a messenger. Have you no 
man about the place?” 

The woman shook her head. 

“Then there is no help for it; I cannot walk a step 
further without being lamed for a week or a month; 
so your son must go,” I said, nodding toward a lad 
of about seventeen years, who was lounging on the 
settee. 


INTRODUCING SELF AND SUNDRY 


9 


Mrs. Metcalf shook her head more decidedly than 
before. 

“Of course I will pay him for going,” I added, im- 
patiently. 

“It’s not that, sir; Jim would go, and gladly, too, 
just to oblige you, if it was to anywhere else, but not 
to the Manor, sir, to-night. Why, it’s almost dark 
already.” 

“But it is not more than five miles, you say, and a 
great, fine fellow, like your boy, surely cannot mind 
the darkness.” 

“Not to the Manor, sir; anywhere else you like — 
but not to the Manor. Jim shall not go to the Man- 
or after night.” 

That was all she would say, and my prayers, en- 
treaties, bribes and threats were alike powerless to 
move her from her resolve. The more I stormed the 
more gentle she became, but with the gentleness 
of one who was determined at any cost to protect her 
own from danger. 

On the first of September — it was then the twen- 
tieth — I had come down into Yorkshire on a walking 
tour. It was in that neighborhood that my father’s 
parents had been born and from there they had em- 
igrated to the United States. I had been for seven 
years in the detective service and had, by close at- 
tention to my business, and good luck, gained very 
considerable reputation. My last case, in which I 
secured a noted criminal, with proofs of his guilt, and 


10 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


accompanied him to England, there delivering him 
to the authorities; this case for the time being, made 
me rather a noted man in the old country. After 
hearing the fellow sentenced for life I had concluded 
to indulge in a few weeks’ holiday, and leaving my 
probable address, on the line I proposed to take, 
with the Chief of Detectives of Scotland Yard, — not 
for professional purposes but because I knew hardly 
any one out of the fraternity — I started on my tramp 
to the early home scenes of my grandparents. 

At Pateley, I found a budget of letters, and among 
them one from the Scotland Yard Chief; it read thus: 

“If you feel disposed to take up a case that is con- 
sidered very important, you are the man to do it. 
The parties desire an officer who is entirely unknown 
in this country, and they state that they would much 
prefer an American. I know none of the particulars 
but thought of you at once, so soon as I was ap- 
plied to for aid. I ventured to almost guarantee your 
acceptance of the case. At all events please call on 
the party, Sir Lionel Foster, in Craven, at Wal- 
tham Manor. It will not be much out of your way 
and you will receive this in ample time, providing you 
arrive at Pateley on the date you mentioned. But 
I pledged my word that you would call on Sir L. be- 
fore the twenty-frst y as on that day he leaves for 
Norway.” 

This was the substance of the letter from the Chief 
of English detectives. He had taken every pains to 


INTRODUCING SELF AND SUNDRY 


11 


show me kindness on my arrival, and evidently de- 
pended upon me to carry out his wishes in this matter, 
even if only so far as to see the titled gentleman who 
desired my services. 

Now I had loitered on my way and did not arrive 
at Pateley until the morning of Sept. 20, the last day 
named in this letter. Determined to keep the pledge 
made for me, even at that late moment, and learning 
from the inn-keeper that Waltham Manor was with- 
in an easy walk, I set out. My road lay up Niddes- 
dale and round by Great Whernside, but either the 
landlord’s idea of distance varied considerably from 
mine, or else I must have lost my way, for after pass- 
ing Middlesmoor I wandered for hours in an almost 
uninhabited region, and then learned at a little way- 
side farm-house, which appeared in sight just as a 
slip on a loose stone and a sharp pain told me that 
my ankle was sprained. 

Immediate attention to such matters is the largest 
part of cure. I hobbled to the farm-house mentioned 
and was told that I was still five miles from the 
Manor. 

The good woman received me most hospitably and 
offered me a bed, which, for the sake of my lamed 
ankle, and my tired-out body, I should have been 
most thankful to accept, if only I could have found 
some one to carry a note to the Sir. L. who cer- 
tainly had been expecting me several days and who 
was to depart from his home on the morrow. 


12 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


To walk five miles or any distance, was an impos- 
sibility. I took the woman partially into my confi- 
dence, thinking that if she realized my difficulty she 
would be the more ready to help me. I told her my 
business was of vast importance to Sir. L. , and that 
immense interests would be sacrificed did I not see 
him or communicate with him that night. 

She listened to what I had to say with a sympathy 
that was quite touching. 

“If only the old mare was at home,” she kept say- 
ing, but none the less she resolved that Jim should 
not go to the Manor that night, nor could she think 
where to find a horse or messenger between Waltham 
and her own home. 

“There’s not a house between here and the Manor,” 
she said, with a queer little glance at her son; “and 
if there was, nobody would live in it. Now, sir, just 
be reasonable. That foot’s swelling all the time, 
and you look all worn-out. Have a bit of supper now 
and you’ll feel better. If the master comes home you 
shall have the mare and if not Jim shall take the let- 
ter over betimes in the morning. Go to-night, he 
shan’t !” 

There was nothing else to be done, so I was obliged 
to submit, although resolved that, if the farmer did 
not return by nine o’clock, I would set out to make 
the distance if I had to crawl it. ’Twould never do 
to let these Britishers think that a Yankee could be 
bluffed by such a thing as a sprained ankle. 


INTRODUCING SELF AND SUNDRY 


13 


The woman’s obstinacy had excited my curiosity. 
Although the house was clean and neat, there were 
signs of poverty on every side. It could only be 
a very strong reason, I thought, that made her thus 
prevent her son’s earning a couple of sovereigns by 
a five-mile walk. 

She tried to avoid the subject, but, after a good 
deal of questioning, she confessed that the road to 
the Manor was “uncanny.” This idea amused me not 
a little; I had thought that all these superstitions 
vanished when railroads were introduced. But then, 
of course, railroads were things unknown at Wal- 
tham. 

“If you had seen all I have you would be less in- 
clined to laugh, sir,” Mrs. Metcalf remarked, re- 
proachfully. 

I apologized for my untimely mirth, and soon, as 
I sat there listening idly, the woman launched into 
all the details of the tragedy that must, she said, 
make the road forever uncanny. 

Mrs. Metcalf, the daughter of a small Berkshire 
farmer, had, when quite a girl, come down to the 
Manor as maid to Lady Barchester’s two daughters. 
Her mother had been a Craven woman, and, before 
her marriage, Lady Barchester’s maid. Judging by 
the tone of real affection with which the woman 
spoke of them, her young mistresses must have been 
kindly, good-hearted girls, though their mother was 
evidently a tartar. She was a genuine Daler, born 


14 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


and bred in Waltham, and never leaving until she 
married Sir Frederick Barchester, a fast young officer 
who, having come north on a shooting party, fell in 
love with the beauty of Craven, married her and took 
her to his southern home. 

The marriage seems not to have been a happy one, 
for when, a few years later, Lady Barchester returned 
to her father’s house a widow, she, who had left it a 
bright, winsome girl, had become a fierce, hard wo- 
man, whose hand was against every man, and, as she 
believed, every man’s hand against her. 

She brought with her two little girls, whom she 
loved with such jealous passion that if they smiled 
at any one but her, even at her own father, their 
grandsire, she would frown black with anger 

These two girls grew up at the Manor, entirely cut 
off from the world until the elder was nearly nine- 
teen, when their father’s relations interfered and in- 
sisted upon their being taken into society befitting 
their rank. Lady Barchester made a gallant struggle 
to keep her children for herself alone, and, at the 
end it was only the fear that they would be taken 
from her entirely, that induced her to accompany 
them to town for the season. 

The two northern heiresses created quite a sen- 
sation in London, and little wonder, for, according to 
the portraits Mrs. Metcalf showed me, they must 
both of them have been undeniably beautiful. The 
younger of the two was a brilliant brunette, who, if 


INTRODUCING SELF AND SUNDRY 


15 


one may judge by faces, had inherited her mother’s 
determination, if not her jealous temper. The other 
was cast in a gentler mold; she was one of those 
tall, willowy girls who look as though a gust of wind 
would blow them away. Her face was wonderfully 
lovely, with large piteous blue eyes, which seemed as if 
they were appealing — appealing, too, in vain — for sym- 
pathy to those around. By the strange magnetism 
of contrasts it was the gentle Dorothea, not the more 
brilliant Kathleen, who was her mother’s favorite 
child. 

When, at the end of the season, the Barchesters 
returned to the Manor, Kathleen was betrothed to 
the great catch of the year, Sir Lionel Foster, the 
owner of large estates in Craven, and member of a 
good old northern family. Lady Barchester, far from 
being elated at her daughter’s good fortune, grieved 
over it as a calamity. She did not hold with marry- 
ing and giving in marriage, and openly declared that, 
if Sir Lionel had not been a Dalesman, he never 
should have married her daughter. 

Dora, too, had found a suitor, a young artist, 
whose father, the leading Queen’s counsel of the day, 
owed his fortune and fame entirely to his own ability. 

Mrs. Metcalf, much as she deplored the fact of 
Arthur Dacre’s being only “a painting fellow, and of 
no sort of family,” was forced to confess that he was 
a fine, handsome young man, who had already made 
a mark in his profession, and was, as she styled it, 


16 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


“very much thought of in London:” but, as she 
naively remarked, “if the king upon his throne had 
begged for Miss Dora in marriage, her mother would 
have rejected him with scorn,” so there was little 
hope for one who combined the obnoxious attributes 
of parvenu, artist and southerner. Lady Barchester 
seems to have been determined that no one should 
come between this daughter and herself. The young 
artist did not take the contemptuous refusal he re- 
ceived much to heart. Perhaps the fair Dora had 
found some means of letting him know that she did 
not share the views of her mother, for he coolly wrote 
and told Lady Barchester that he should renew his 
proposal when her daughter was of an age legally to 
decide for herself. 

This meant that the young people must wait about 
eighteen months. But Sir Lionel, who was a friend 
of Mr. Dacre’s, encouraged the match and took care 
that his sister-in-law should from time to time meet 
the man she loved. 

At length, when Dora was twenty-one, she sum- 
moned courage to tell her mother that she was re- 
solved to marry Arthur Dacre. A terrible scene en- 
sued, which the girl’s strength, already undermined 
by the silent struggle of the two previous years, was 
little able to endure, and just as her mother, in a 
fierce blaze of rage, was calling down the wrath of 
heaven upon the base-born traitor who had stolen 
from her her daughter’s love, Dora fell to the ground 


INTRODUCING SELF AND SUNDR Y 


17 


with blood streaming from her mouth — she had broken 
a blood vessel. 

Lady BarchesteLs remorse was as passionate as 
had been her anger, and, ready to make any sacri- 
fice, now that her daughter’s life was in danger, she 
hastily summoned Arthur Dacre. 

Unfortunately he was abroad and nearly a month 
elapsed before he reached Waltham. In the mean- 
time Dora seemed to have fully recovered her usual 
health, and her mother had begun to keenly regret 
the invitation she had sent. 

“The day that Mr. Dacre was to arrive was a ter- 
rible day for us all,” Mrs. Metcalf said, with a sigh. 
“Sir Lionel rode backward and forward between 
Stony Place and the Manor, trying to persuade my 
lady to be reasonable, for at the last moment she 
had changed her mind and declared that Mr. Dacre 
should not see Miss Dora. 

“She, poor thing, was just a picture of misery the 
whole time. I felt sure they would kill her among 
them. It was settled at last, though not without a 
terribly hard battle, that Mr. Dacre should stay with 
Sir Lionel at Stony Place, and from there come over 
to dine at the Manor. 

“When Miss Dora knew that she was really going 
to see him, she was like a different being. She 
laughed and chatted and sang as she came and helped 
me to look through her gowns, for she was bent, she 
said, on wearing her prettiest that night. I remember 


18 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


so well, just as we heard the carriage wheels in the 
distance, she threw her arms around my neck and 
kissed me. 

“ ‘Annie,’ she said, ‘look through my things. I 
should like to give something to each of you to-night. 
And please run down with that gray traveling-shawl 
to Mrs. Roberts. The one she was wearing on Sun- 
day was so thin there could be no warmth in it. Give 
her my love, too. 

“Now, at the Manor the dining-room door was never 
shut, as a heavy curtain hung before the opening. As 
soon as I knew dessert was on the table I stole down- 
stairs to have a peep from behind this curtain at my 
young mistress and her intended husband. There 
was nobody but they and my lady at the table. 

“Miss Dora, who was usually so silent and sedate, 
was beaming with happiness, and laughing and talk- 
ing gayly, while Mr. Dacre seemed to hang on the 
very words as they fell from her lips; they were all 
and all to each other, for although they would from 
time to time turn and make some remark to my lady, 
it was always with an effort. 

“She sat at the head of the table, with a scowl 
black as thunder on her face. How them young peo- 
ple could laugh and talk so with her glowering down 
upon them, I could not imagine. The way she looked 
made my very blood run cold. 

“About nine o’clock a terrible storm came on. I 
have seen many a bad one in my time, but none so 


INTRODUCING SELF AND SUNDRY 


19 


bad as that. Folks don’t know what real storms are 
like until they have lived in these narrow valleys. 

“That night the lightning seemed to play like 
great tongues of fire around the house, while the 
thunder roared and the wind howled, and the rain 
fell in oceans. I was too frightened to stay upstairs 
alone, so I crept down into the hall. 

“As it struck ten o’clock my lady rang the bell and 
inquired if Sir Lionel’s carriage had not come for 
Mr. Dacre. 

“‘Sir Lionel’s not a gentleman as would send a horse 
out on such a night, ’ I heard old Thomas, the butler, 
answer sturdily. ‘Why, my lady, have ye na seen 
the lightning? I’d like to see the carriage that could 
stand in this wind.’ 

“ ‘Mr. Dacre,’ my lady said, in that stately way 
of hers, ‘Sir Lionel promised that his carriage should 
be here at ten o’clock; he has failed to keep his en- 
gagement; I am afraid you will be obliged to walk 
to Stony Place.’ 

“Through the open door I could see Miss Dora and 
Mr. Dacre looking at her in blank amazement. 

“ ‘But mamma, surely — ’ Miss Dora began, but 
her mother cut her short with a gesture. 

“ ‘I know that young men are not now what they 
used to be, ’ my lady said, in a voice that made me 
shudder; it seemed to cut like a sharp knife as you 
heard it. ‘And of course there is all the difference in 
the world between northerners and southerners; but 


20 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


I should have thought that, even for a southerner, a 
walk of two miles would scarcely have been counted 
a hardship.” 

“‘ Neither of two, nor of twenty, I hope,’ Mr.Dacre 
replied with a laugh. “But in inky darkness, with a 
storm such as this raging’ — he hesitated. 

“ ‘It is a straight path, you cannot miss it.’ 

“‘Do you mean, Lady Barchester, that you really 
want me to set out in this storm?’ he asked indig- 
nantly. 

“ ‘Your invitation was until ten o’clock. If it is 
darkness you are afraid of, ’ my lady added with a 
sneer, ‘one of the footmen may accompany you. ’ 

“Mr. Dacre’s face flushed angrily. ‘Thank you, 
I will not trouble your servant, and as I am so un- 
welcome, I will intrude on you no longer. Good 
evening, Lady Barchester. Good-bye, Dora. Don’t 
let this trouble you, darling, ’ he added, lowering his 
voice, ‘I shall see you to-morrow. ’ 

“He walked to the outer door, which Thomas 
opened most unwillingly. A violent gust of wind 
dashed the men across the threshold back into the 
hall, and at that moment a blinding flash of lightning 
filled the air with flame, while a crash of thunder was 
so loud that the whole building shook. 

Miss Dora, who had been standing as one stunned, 
sprang forward with a shriek : 

“ ‘Arthur, you shall not go; you shall stay here. 
Mother, you cannot, shall not turn him out. Arthur, 


INTRODUCING SELF AND SUNDRY 


21 


darling, say you will not go.’ And she clung about 
him with fond embraces and piteous entreaty. 

“‘Be silent, child,’ my lady said, sternly. ‘Have 
you no sense of maiden modesty? Mr. Dacre, must 
I tell you for the second time that you are intruding?’ 
And she pointed with her hand toward the door 
where Thomas stood, resisting the battering force 
of the outside riot. 

Ui In Craven , a curse rests on them and theirs as 
turns away a guest. ’ 

“That is what I heard the old man say, as he stood 
there pale and unwilling to turn that poor lad out; 
and he seemed to be talking to himself and without 
knowing he was doing it.” 


* 


CHAPTER II 

MORE FAMILY HISTORY. MY PRIDE HAS A FALL 

“Mr. Dacre stood looking at my lady for a mo- 
ment, after her last insulting order for him to be 
gone, as if he was about to tell her what he thought; 
then he threw his arms around Miss Dora in one pas- 
sionate embrace, forced open the hall door and strode 
away. 

“ ‘For heaven’s sake, sir, be careful at that bridge, ’ 
old Thomas called after him. 

“ ‘Your father, my good old master, wouldn’t have 
turned a dog out on such a night as this, my lady, ’ 
he said, with strange boldness and awful solemnity. 

‘ In Craven a curse rests on them and theirs as turns 
away a guest , ’ he added, while he looked sternly into 
the face of his proud mistress. 

“Miss Dora never closed her eyes that night, but 
just lay and moaned like a stricken lamb. It was 
well on to morning when I fell asleep myself, and 
when I woke she was standing by my bedside, very 
white, but quite calm and determined. 

“ ‘Annie, please dress quickly, ’ she said, ‘I am go- 
ing to Stony Place, and you must come with me. I 
22 


MORE FAMILY HISTORY 


23 


will not stay another day in a house where he is not 
welcome. ’ 

“By eight o’clock we were on our way. It was a 
lovely morning; the sun seemed to have swept from 
the earth all that was not beautiful and sweet. My 
young mistress talked away quite calmly as we 
walked. She told me she should stay with her sis- 
ter and Sir Lionel until she was married. 

“ ‘It will only be a week or two now, ’ she said, 
with a smile and a faint flush, and that then she 
would go to London, and I was to go, too. 

“Now, at about half a mile from the manor there 
is a little stream that separates the park from the 
meadows. I call it a stream, and so it is in a usual 
way; in summer, even, you can ford across it, al- 
though after a heavy rain it swells out into quite an 
important river. You will see it, sir, as you go to 
the Manor — just at the park entrance; there is no 
bridge at that side. 

“In those days there was an old-fashioned wooden 
bridge that the gentlefolks set a great store by, and 
artists used to come from all around to sketch. As 
we drew near I noticed that the river was more 
swollen than I had ever seen it before, and also that 
something was wrong with the bridge. One of the 
shafts that supported it had been washed away and 
had dragged down with it the little handrail. I was 
just wondering what we should do, for it is a long 
way by the road to Stony Place, when Miss Dora 


24 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


sprang from my side, and with one bound was at the 
brink of the river. 

“What followed, sir, to this day I never rightly 
knew. I heard a shriek — Oh, heavens! I can hear 
that shriek still; it was more like the cry of a wound- 
ed animal than a human creature — and saw Miss 
Dora jump into the river. 

“She fell just in the middle, where the current was 
most strong, and in a second she was carried away 
by the force of the stream far beyond my reach. 
Some men were working in a field near and heard 
my cries; but they were too late. 

“Miss Dora was dead long before they reached 
her.” 

The woman stopped to dry her tears. 

“What could have induced her to commit so wild 
a deed?” I asked. 

“Ah, sir! she had cause enough for what she did, 
as I saw when I came back to the stream; for there, 
on the further bank, Mr. Dacre was lying, white and 
ghastly, with a terrible wound in the side of his head. 
He must have been on the bridge when it fell, for 
the doctor said he was not drowned — I myself saw 
that his face was out of the water — but died from hit- 
ting his head against a stone. Miss Dora must have 
caught sight of him and tried to spring across the 
river to his side.” 

“What became of Lady Barchester?” 

The woman shuddered as she replied: 


MORE FAMILY HISTORY 


25 


“The news that something was wrong must have 
reached her, for we had just taken the body of the 
poor young gentleman free of the water, and laid it 
on the grass, when I saw my lady coming toward 
us. She came quite close and stood for a moment 
looking down at the dead face, with such a strange, 
fierce look, almost as if she was glad to see him so. 

“When her eyes fell on me she asked angrily what 
I was doing there, and bade me go and see to my 
young mistress. 

“‘She must know nothing of this,’ she said savage- 
ly. ‘Do you understand? I forbid you to tell her a 
word of this, ’ and she turned toward the house. 

“The plank of wood on which her dead daughter 
was lying barred her way. 

“We were all on the soft grass and had never heard 
the footsteps of the men who were carrying it. It 
was terrible to look on the cold faces of these two 
poor young creatures, but theirs were nothing to com- 
pare to my lady’s. When I am alone the awful look 
that came over her when she saw Miss Dora lying 
before her, haunts me often, even now. She stood 
perfectly still, just as if in a dream, and not one of us 
dared to move. 

“Then Sir Lionel rode up. Some one must have 
told him what had happened, for he was white as 
death. My lady looked at him for a moment, and 
then said quietly, but in a voice that seemed to come 
from far-off caves or hollows: ‘Lionel, I killed him, 


26 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


so God has killed her — The curse of Craven is upon 
me . 1 And then she turned and walked to the house 
with her usual stately gait. 

“The men that were carrying the bodies of Miss 
Dora and Mr. Dacre followed her slowly, we walk- 
ing behind them. My lady must have gone more 
quickly than we, for when we reached the broad ave- 
nue she was already out of sight, and just as we 
crossed the threshold of the Manor House the report 
of a gun rang out, my lady had shot herself.” 

“But what has all this to do with your Jim’s not 
being able to take my letter? It is not only a favor 
to me, but will be a matter of serious import to 
your Sir Lionel,” I said, after a long pause, during 
which the good woman had in some degree recovered 
her composure. 

She looked at me for a moment as though she 
thought I must be singularly lacking in intelligence 
to ask such a question, and then said, solemnly: 

“It is the twentieth of September, sir, to-day, — 
twenty years ago to-night that poor young gentleman 
died by the Manor park bridge. My mind’s been 
dwelling on it all day, else you'd have heard no talk 
of the family matters from me. Mr. Dacre will be 
at that bridge again to-night.” 

“Oh, that is all — ” I commenced. 

“Jim, go you out and see if you can see or hear 
anything of your father,” she said to the boy, who 
left the room for outdoors. 


MORE FAMILY HISTORY 


27 


Then approaching me with a fresh poultice of some 
leaves she had been applying, at regular intervals, to 
my injured ankle, now much better, she said, in low, 
most impressive tones: 

“He, Jim, knows much about it, from hearsay, but 
I don’t like him to know of my talking of such mat- 
ters. 

“They do say that my lady shot herself in the 
head, but did not die, though her name was cut in 
the stone over the family vault ; but there is no date 
of her birth or death following it. 

“Some say she hurt herself so that she became 
worse, in her worst way, than ever. Anyhow, Sir 
Lionel and his wife moved from Stony Point to 
Waltham Manor, and have been there close ever 
since, and him that was such a fine, gallant young 
man is aged with trouble, far past his years, and 
Miss Kathleen that was his wife, is — well — queer , 
and shows more — queerness — than Lady Barchester 
even, ever did. And there are strange people come 
there at all times and go away at all hours — and — 
the curse of Craven is on the house and all in it, 
and no man or woman goes nigh it can help it, let 
alone this night, of all nights in the year.” 

She closed her mouth, with a look upon her face 
that told I would get no more information from her, 
a look seeming to imply that she felt both shame and 
regret that she had been betrayed into such evidently 
unusual confidence in a stranger. 


28 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


But I was so much interested and excited by what 
I had heard, and my national and professional pride 
so aroused, that I really felt no more pain from the 
sprained ankle. “Here is a case,” I thought, “to which 
only a Yankee detective can do justice. No wonder 
those beer-heads of Scotland Yard and this Sir Lio- 
nel saw that they were unable to cope with it. I’ll 
get there to-night, if it takes a leg.” 

So, after tearing some of Mrs. Metcalf’s strong 
home-spun linen into bandages, and firmly bracing 
the injured section of my anatomy, I insisted, in spite 
of all her entreaties, that I would make my way to 
the Manor. 

“You are tempting fate,” she said; “you never can 
walk that distance, and that poor young gentleman 
will be at the bridge you must cross this night.” She 
repeated these warnings again and again. 

“I’m always tempting fate,” I replied. “If I 
cannot walk to the Manor, I’ll crawl. I’m a Yankee, 
and I’ll get there! I only hope I may meet the ghost 
of Mr. Dacre. I never had the pleasure of interview- 
ing a ghost yet;” and with a laugh, a last effort to 
force pay upon her, which was refused, and with 
many thanks for her real, motherly kindness, I bade 
her good night and set out for Waltham Manor, phi- 
losophizing as I went on the strange persistency with 
which superstitions still linger in these old countries. 

“There is a fine field for an American school-board 
here,” I muttered, with a sniff of scorn, as I tramped 


MY PRIDE HAS A FALL 


29 


ahead in the fine night air. “How can people in this 
practical day be capable of such folly ?” 

All my life I had had a peculiar contempt for so- 
called psychic experiences, and my calling had only 
the more firmly convinced me that in every case they 
were the inventions of impostors, or the ravings of 
hysterical women. So far did my antipathy go that 
I had given up taking my favorite magazine simply 
because it would persist in recording the meetings and 
doings of the Psychical Society. 

If, when I started to Waltham Manor, any one 
had asked me whether I believed in ghosts, I should 
have regarded the question as a stupid joke, so 
convinced was I that no sensible man could believe in 
anything of that sort. 

Before I was at the end of my journey that night, 
I was doomed to discover that, even in myself, there 
were more things than I had dreamed of in my philos- 
ophy. 

My path lay along a narrow lane, with thick bushes 
growing on either side, from which, now and then, 
tall trees raised up their heads. It was one of those 
sometime September nights when light and darkness 
seem to be playing some fitful, restless game. 

The moon was a good-sized crescent, and shone 
with a brilliant light, but dark, heavy clouds kept 
flitting before its bright surface, casting thick dark- 
ness on the world. A gentle breeze was blowing, 
just enough to make the leaves, as they fluttered, 


30 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


moan and coo as if they had piteous tales to tell, if 
they could only find a listener. Perhaps it was they 
that kept more vividly in my mind the story I had 
heard from Mrs. Metcalf. 

There was something almost grotesque in the 
thought of this peaceful little valley having been the 
scene of a tragedy so ghastly — of a young man full 
of life and bright hopes having met there with such 
a fate — to die like a dog in a ditch, and all through 
the mad, obstinate folly of a jealous old woman 

I caught myself trying to imagine what Arthur 
Dacre must have felt that night when driven out into 
the storm. The air seemed to become suddenly chill, 
or perhaps the pain in my ankle, which came on with 
increased intensity, and weariness made me exaggerate 
what was only a natural change in the atmosphere. 
Be that as it may, I shivered as I dragged my weary 
body and throbbing limb along, vainly sighing for my 
journey to be speedily ended. 

The solitude was terrible. There was no sign of 
human being or human habitation, not even bark or 
howl of a dog, and when a dead leaf blew against my 
face I started as if I had received a blow. I pulled 
myself together and tried to laugh at my own folly, 
but, struggle as I might, the conviction that there was 
something uncanny about, forced itself upon me. 

The silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves, 
seemed to become more and more unnatural. I tried 
to whistle, but the weird force with which the trees 


MY PRIDE HAS A FALL 


31 


re-echoed the sound was more trying even than the 
stillness. These trees, too, began to assume all sorts 
of grotesque forms and shapes — one great, gaunt oak 
stretched out its arms like a skeleton seeking to 
clutch the passer-by; another bore a strange resem- 
blance to a gallows. Just as I was passing this one 
something touched my feet — it was only a rabbit run- 
ning across the path — and my heart began to throb 
and flutter. 

“Clearly, I have been walking too much and over- 
done myself,” I said to myself, but a mocking voice 
whispered that it was the mind, not the heart, that 
was affected. “What about the superstitious folly 
now, eh ?” it asked. Could it be that I, the skeptic 
of skeptics, was disturbed by the remembrance of the 
stupid prophecy of a garrulous old woman? The 
thought was too absurd, and I hobbled manfully on. 

Still, there was no good denying it, the road was 
uncanny, and in my life I had never seen such 
strange, human-looking trees; each one of them 
seemed to have a theory of its own as to how the 
sounds of my footsteps should be echoed. At length, 
just as the inexplicable feeling that had taken posses- 
sion of me was becoming unbearable, I heard the 
sound of running waters, which told me that I must 
be near the bridge. 

The thought that I had only half a mile more to 
go gave me new life and energy, and I limped, rapid- 
ly as I could, on to the solid stone erection that had 


32 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


replaced the rustic wooden bridge of other days. The 
park was, as I could see, fenced off from the stream 
by an iron railing. 

Just as I was in the middle of the bridge I had an- 
other touch of that queer, jerky feeling at my heart, 
that had twice before on that night come over me. 
To this day I don’t know why I should have felt the 
sensation then, for I could swear that just at the mo- 
ment I did feel it, there was no thought of Arthur 
Dacre in my mind. 

I stood still, frightened at the rate my heart was 
beating, and, as I did so, I noticed something white 
glimmering close to the railing. What it was I could 
not tell, as the moon was hidden by a cloud; then, I 
will confess, the details of the tragedy which had 
been enacted there twenty years before flashed into 
my mind. My heart beat more spasmodically than 
before; I was conscious of a strange, choking sensa- 
tion, as if something were pressing tightly around my 
throat, and I felt an unconquerable reluctance to ad- 
vancing further, until I knew the meaning of that 
white gleam. 

In a moment, however, an overwhelming sense of 
the absurdity of my conduct rushed into my mind. 
I took one step forward, but at that instant the 
moon pierced through the cloud that had enveloped 
it, and shone down with a clear, brilliant light, and 
I saw the white, ghastly face of a dead man turned 
toward me. 


MY PRIDE HAS A FALL 


33 


The wish I had so rashly uttered as I left the farm 
had been gratified. 

Arthur Dacre stood before me. His body was hid- 
den by the bushes, but his face I saw as clearly as 
the words I now write. 

I stood as one paralyzed, for my life I could not 
have moved an inch; my heart seemed to cease beat- 
ing and my brain reeled, as an unutterable sense of 
horror — not fear, but something a thousand times 
more terrible, penetrated my whole being. I would 
rather face a hundred deaths than know that sensa- 
tion again. 

The figure seemed to motion me to advance, and 
then, as if it noticed my unwillingness, it wailed a 
cry so strange in the unutterable piteousness of the 
sorrow it expressed, that it froze my very heart, 
and — 


CHAPTER III 


THE OPENING OF A WONDERFUL CASE 

When I returned to entire or partial consciousness 
after fainting from excess of terror, for truth compels 
me to admit that as the cause, I found myself lying 
on the grass, and heard a rough, kindly voice close 
muttering to my ear, as two strong arms were put 
about and lifted me; 

“Queer job, this! Lean on me, sir; an’ ye’ll be all 
right soon’s I can get ye toth’ Manor.” 

It was Farmer Metcalf, who, arriving at his home 
an hour after I left there, had, despite the warnings 
of his wife, ridden after me to be sure of my safety 
and to offer me his horse if he found me stalled on 
the road. 

No common courage had the honest man, to face 
supernatural dangers in which he fully believed, to 
aid or protect an entire stranger. 

We were soon at Waltham. Private explanation 
to Sir Lionel as to the nature of my business insured 
me the heartiest of welcomes from that gentleman. 
Fatigue and faintness from pain were excuses readily 
received as my excuse for desiring immediate rest, 
and I was, after partaking of some slight refreshment, 
34 


THE OPENING OF A WONDERFUL CASE 


35 


shown to an apartment where bath and luxurious bed 
awaited me. 

In that room I spent the following ten days, recov- 
ering from the shock to my nervous system. Sir Lionel 
changed some of his plans for travel, postponed his 
departure, arranged for the next day, and with fever- 
ish anxiety threw himself, heart and soul, into the 
task of enlightening me upon the wondrous web of 
complicated miseries which entangled him and his, 
seemingly enwrapping every living member of the 
family owning old Lady Barchester as its head. 

As I gradually learned the ramifications and extent, 
the strangeness and apparently unexplainable, mo- 
tiveless operations of all the actors in this family 
drama, I, who had thought I knew all about human 
nature, was compelled to confess that men, and women 
especially, were queerer cattle than even I had ever 
given them credit for being. 

There was a vein of superstition in all this too. “The 
curse of Craven” was fully believed to be the cause 
of all the evil actions the race seemed foi'ced to com- 
mit. Death by violence, other than natural causes or 
the hand of human being, was, so tradition said, the 
only means of removing the ban; that is, such death 
overtaking the person who had called down upon the 
head of him or herself and family, the dreaded curse. 

And certainly old Lady Barchester was not dead. 
She had attempted suicide on that fatal day, twenty 
years before, but the shot had failed to kill her; it 


36 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


still remained in her brain, and its action was to in- 
tensify and increase the insanity with which she had 
always been afflicted and to direct it into the most 
devilish, calculating cunning and malice that ever 
baffled the best wits and plans of wise, sane mor- 
tals. 

To read the record of fantastic tricks, crimes, and 
ingenious devices for outraging all laws, divine and 
human, in which this cursed family had indulged for 
twenty years past, was to have belief in the reality 
of Words badly strained. I learned the cause of sep- 
aration between Lady Barchester and her reckless 
husband, and bad as the man was, she was his good 
equal. The old lady was away, none knew where. 
For nearly twice ten years she had been a wanderer, 
in disguise and hiding, but ever taking care that her 
misdeeds should be known at the home which, with 
all in it, she seemed to hate with fiendish malignity. 

Carefully following up threads and patching inci- 
dents, I knew, before my ten days of half-sick confine- 
ment were over, far more of the whole matter than 
even Sir Lionel, for he, heart-broken at the miseries 
that continually poured upon his innocent head, had 
long since abandoned all effort or desire to keep track 
of or learn the details regarding each new crime or out- 
rage. I pitied, from my heart, this man who should 
have been so happy, condemned to agony, shame 
and self-imprisonment by no fault of his own, and, 
professional zeal aside, I was deeply interested in aid- 


THE OPENING OF A WONDERFUL CASE 


37 


ing him to the extent of my ability. He recognized 
the friendly and sympathetic feeling which moved 
me and avowedly gave me more full confidence than 
any man he ever engaged in like position. 

Old Lady Barchester was wandering somewhere — 
in Spain at last accounts. The family had kept her 
confined at the Manor for nearly a year after her at- 
tempt at suicide. To convey the impression that she 
was dead, and had been very quietly buried, they 
caused her name to be cut in the stone covering of 
the family vault; then Sir Lionel had moved to the 
Manor House and taken up the weary task of his life. 
Within a year the old mad woman escaped, taking 
with her the jewels of her own family and also those 
of Sir Lionel’s house, a princely collection in all, and 
on these gems, Lady Barchester and the tools she 
employed had been living. Shrewd business woman 
she had always been, and her madness seemed only 
to increase her keenness for trade and her inventive 
faculties in obtaining wealth by questionable, often 
actually dishonest means. 

To hunt down this insane woman as a criminal 
was something the family would never consent to. 
She must be trapped, be placed under control of an 
influence more powerful than the orderings of her 
disordered brain. 

There was little of the money interest in this 
strange case. Sir Lionel was immensely wealthy, 
the retired life he and his were forced to live, owing 


38 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


to this terrible scandal, caused his income to accu- 
mulate and add largely each year to his principal. 

But the shame, the solitude, the constant brood- 
ing over his disgrace, the continual dread of news of 
some new, devilish invention or deed to further tar- 
nish his name and that of the house into which he 
had married — all these served to render the man half- 
mad, and it was little wonder. 

The old lady and her confederates took delight 
in sending to him full details of every bit of devil- 
ment, great or small, that they indulged in, they 
knew that they could do so with impunity, that fam- 
ily pride would never permit Sir Lionel to publicly 
prosecute a criminal if there was the least probability 
of one of his connections, however distant, being con- 
nected with the crime. 

When Sir Lionel had told me all he knew and fur- 
nished me with all documents in his possession, had 
signed such papers as enabled me to act in his name, 
in this matter, to draw money as was required, etc., 
etc., he at last took the trip and vacation of which 
he stood badly in need, and I was left to my own 
devices at the Manor, to decide upon my first move 
in the game, and to act precisely when and as I 
thought best. 

Many times my mind turned upon the strange 
manner in which I had been brought into this affair, 
and more often than I desired I found myself dwell- 
ing upon the mysterious appearance of that ghost to 


THE OPENING OF A WONDERFUL CASE 


89 


me — the ghost of the man upon whose death hung all 
this great chain of horrors and troubles. 

Was his appearing to me a pledge that I was to 
be successful in once more restoring peace to this 
distracted family, or was it a kindly warning that I 
should keep aloof from interference with matters in 
which the spiritual world concerned themselves? 

For it must be confessed that my contempt of the 
supernatural had suffered a great shock, and I felt 
that I would never again presume to question the 
power of the departed to reappear on earth, or to 
work their will as they choose. I was not prepared 
to announce my full conversion, but I quite resolved 
that in the future I would hold my tongue on such 
subjects. 

Within a week I had arranged my plans for a move, 
and the morning I started I met Farmer Metcalf as 
I drove from the Manor. He halted and I was glad, 
for I wished once more to thank him for his good, 
timely services to me on that dreadful night. 

Evidently the good man had something on his 
mind, for after saying good-bye a dozen times he still 
stood there, hummed and ha’d and twirled his hat 
in dire confusion. 

I knew he would not take money, for he had an- 
grily refused it. So I said, finally: “Well, Farmer, 
I must be going. Once more good-bye, and good 
luck to you and all your house.” 

“One moment, sir,” and he stepped to the side of 


40 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


the dog-cart, and whispered so that the man driving 
me would not hear: 

“I ought t‘ tell ye, sir, I kind o’ guess, sir — ye’d 
had a bit o’ a fright that noight I found ye lyin’ by 
th’ bridge. That white thing, ye knows, sir; it did 
give me a mortal ugly turn when I fust seed it — but 
it were nobbut th’ squire’s white-faced mare as had 
gotten her head fast in th’ iron railings!” 

I hadn’t voice to answer, and the driver whipped 
up before I could think what to say. 

How was this upsetting of my ghost intervention 
belief going to act in my success with the case? It 
was only another puzzle added to the many, and 
really, I felt little thankful to good Farmer Metcalf 
for disturbing my newly formed ghost theory. 

It’s hard to have one’s convictions knocked side- 
ways, so soon after having decided to entertain 
them. 


CHAPTER IV 


AN EXPERIENCE WITH FRENCH ASSISTANTS 

Fully convinced, from the evidence laid before me, 
of the class of crimes committed under direction 
and by the accomplices of this talented but demented 
old woman, I at once sought the records to ascertain 
what villainy had been recently perpetrated, that by 
the “style of work,” as given in the details of the act, 
I might, with some chance of success, locate the then 
presence of the female outlaw. 

The case of the killing of Daniel Pereira was just 
then the sensation in police circles. It was most ex- 
traordinary, and the acts connected with it presented 
such likelihood of being ordered by the hand of her 
I sought, that I determined to follow the matter up, 
and for that purpose I started immediately for Paris, 
and at once put myself in communication with such 
of the detectives of the French capital as I had 
learned were most efficient. It was my first visit to 
France, and, knowing the world-wide reputation for 
skill enjoyed by the detectives of that country, I was 
disposed to rely more on them than on my own dil- 
igence and devices. 

Daniel Pereira was an Israelite, verging on three- 
41 


42 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


score years and ten. He had never been married, 
and resided alone in an old dwelling on the Rue St. 
Quentin. He was reputed to be immensely wealthy 
and such was doubtless the case. For years he had 
been one of the best known diamond merchants of 
Paris, and had had for his customers the most famous 
residents of the city, from royalty, in the time of the 
monarchy, downward. 

The back parlor of his residence was his place of 
business, and there he had a safe containing jewels 
of immense value, and goblets and boxes of gold 
whose history made them more priceless than if they 
had been gigantic gems. For years he had been col- 
lecting these mementoes of the past and prided him- 
self on their possession, having repeatedly refused 
fabulous sums offered for them. 

The diamond merchant was fully aware of the 
temptation which his valuable stores offered to the 
lawless and avaricious, and the entrance to his dwell- 
ing was guarded all day long by a stalwart servitor, 
well armed, and all night through by two experienced 
and often-tested watchmen. These latter had been 
repeatedly approached and offered heavy bribes, but 
they had resisted all attempts to induce them to 
prove faithless, and had more than once successfully 
repelled the organized attacks of burglars. 

On the forenoon of August 20, a cab drove up to 
the door of Daniel Pereira’s house, and a gentleman 
with a valise alighted from the vehicle. 


AN EXPERIENCE WITH FRENCH ASSISTANTS 


43 


On ascending the steps he confronted the servant 
and asked: 

“Is Monsieur Pereira within?” 

“He is, monsieur,” was the response; “your name 
and business if you please?” 

“Here is my card,” the gentleman said, adding, in 
a low tone, “I come from — — , the Minister of — ” 

The official whose name was mentioned was then 
making much noise in the world, and was, for the 
time being, the idol of the hero-worshiping French 
people. 

Bowing low, the servant admitted the visitor. At 
the same time two men alighted from the carriage 
still standing at the curb, and ascended the steps of 
the dwelling. The door had been left open by the 
first stranger, when he followed the servant who went 
to announce him to his master, so these two men 
passed quickly and quietly in, and the door, that time, 
closed securely. The servant had entered the back 
parlor, the merchant’s business place, as these two 
latest arrivals made their appearance inside. 

The three strangers passed noiselessly along the 
corridor, and the two placed themselves one on each 
side of the door of the diamond-broker’s private 
room. 

As the servant appeared again, and crossed the 
threshold of the door, he was seized, gagged, and 
pinioned in a moment. Old Daniel Pereira heard 
the scuffle, and he approached the doorway. The 


44 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


man who had presented the card sprang into the 
room and grasped him by the throat, at the same 
time drawing out a handkerchief and placing it at 
the nostrils of the Jew. The merchant’s struggles 
ceased, his limbs grew limp, and his assailant suffered 
him to fall gently to the ground. 

Then the three men ransacked the safe, loading 
themselves with the precious gems, and packing the 
more bulky valuables into the valise. Next, the man 
who had brought the valise passed out to the still 
waiting carriage, one of his accomplices bowing to 
him most obsequiously as he quitted the door, and 
then retiring within the house. The cab was imme- 
diately driven away. A minute afterward another of 
the robbers was politely shown out by his compan- 
ion, and walked leisurely down the street. In a 
short time the third man passed out and departed in 
another direction. 

“The old Jew has been doing a heavy business this 
morning, ” remarked Monsieur Thomas, who kept a 
wine-shop opposite. 

At eight o’clock that evening, when the night 
watchmen reached the dwelling of Daniel Pereira, 
all was dark therein and their summons was unan- 
swered. After a brief delay they opened a window 
and entered. As soon as they had struck a light they 
knew that something unusual had happened. 

The servant lay in the hallway, bound and gagged. 

In the back parlor, stretched upon an old-fashioned 
sofa, was the body of the Jewish merchant. 


AN EXPERIENCE IVITH FRENCH ASSISTANTS 


45 


Evidences of hasty but most thorough rifling of 
every receptacle likely to contain valuables, was strewn 
over the floor of the apartment. 

When the servant was released he was still half 
stupefied from the effects of the chloroform which 
had been administered to him most liberally, but 
after a while he recovered sufficiently to give an ac- 
count of what had happened. 

The old broker had been dead some time and finger- 
marks upon his throat showed that the murder had 
been intentional, the drug, perhaps, having failed in 
his case to have sufficient effect. 

By the direction of the chief of police the affair 
was kept secret until the high official of government, 
whose name had been used to introduce comer No. 
i, should be communicated with. That he was com- 
municated with is certain, that his name had been 
used in such connection, and the horror of the crime, 
as well as the extent of the robbery, was made known 
to this minister, is sure. That no mention in gen- 
eral or particular was ever made public of this tragedy 
is strange, and readers can draw their own conclu- 
sions as to why some parties, certainly influential, 
should cause silence to be maintained on the matter. 

Private measures, however, were taken to investi- 
gate the affair. Many persons were more or less in- 
terested in knowing all that was to be learned about 
it, and the two nephews of the dead Israelite were 
more anxious to secure the stolen property than to 
avenge their uncle’s death. 


46 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


It was even more than likely that some of the fam- 
ily gems carried off by old Lady Barchester had been 
sold by her to this old broker. Sir Lionel felt sure 
that could the plunderer be found he would recover 
some if not all the family heirlooms of his house, 
which had disappeared also with Lady B., and in 
this opinion I fully coincided. 

So I was in France in time to do my share in trac- 
ing up the mystery and securing what I might. I 
found the secret police and the detective force just 
beginning to actively engage in the case, the perfect 
indifference, seemingly, of those in high places, hav- 
ing made the officers less prompt than usual. 

The first thing was to obtain a clew to the cab in 
which the three men were driven to the house of 
Daniel Pereira. For this purpose all the owners of 
such vehicles were visited, and the men in their em- 
ploy questioned. 

It was found that, on the night of the murder, one 
Jean Fonier, a driver in the employ of Henri Dinout, 
a cab proprietor, discharged himself from his situa- 
tion very suddenly and disappeared from his usual 
haunts. 

This man Fonier had been in trouble more than 
once and it was conjectured that he had been selected 
by the assassins to carry them to the merchant’s 
house. 

Search was instituted for the driver, but without 
success. He was a young man of short stature, with a 


AN EXPERIENCE IVITH FRENCH ASSISTANTS 


47 


smooth, handsome face, and prepossessing manners. 
He loved pleasure; it was not believed that he had left 
the city, and it was deemed advisable to keep quiet 
and close watch for him within the limits of Paris. 

With the few others at work on the case I had a 
copy of an excellent photograph of Fonier and from 
constant study of the face I was satisfied that I would 
recognize the original at once, unless he had disguised 
himself with more skill than unprofessionals usually 
possess. 

For weeks we watched, but the whereabouts of this 
man still remained a mystery. At length, on the 
30th of October, I spied him. I felt sure that he was 
the man; every intelligence I possessed told me I had 
the right party the moment my eyes rested upon him. 
He had a passion for music, so I learned, and I ar- 
gued that now, being in funds, he would indulge in 
the luxuries of life; so the Opera House was one of 
my stations for watching. 

And it was in front of the Opera House that I spied 
him; he was just leaving the place and stepping into 
a private carriage, which was immediately driven off 
at a rapid pace. 

I could not well have laid hands on him then, so 
quickly did he manage to put distance between us 
after my first glance of recognition. But I was not 
unwilling to have matters stand as they did, as now 
I had a chance to ascertain where he was residing, 
and to, perhaps, make further discoveries, such as 
chance so often brings to light. 


48 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


Springing into a cabriolet, of which numbers are 
always on stand there, I gave directions to the driver 
to whip up and keep close as possible to the private 
carriage I pointed out to him. We soon came to 
within a satisfactory distance of the vehicle in de- 
mand and kept it well in view, following it to an aris- 
tocratic neighborhood, where it stopped in front of 
an elegant mansion. 

I jumped from my cab the moment I saw the car- 
riage stop and hastened toward it with firm intention 
to somehow get close to and speak with the young 
man it carried, leaving the question of immediate ar- 
rest to be decided by circumstances. 

Just before I reached the spot, the driver, who had 
most leisurely descended from his seat, opened the 
door of the carriage and stood most respectfully, while 
an elegantly attired lady alighted, and tripping up the 
steps of the mansion, entered its doors. Two hasty 
steps brought me beside the door of the carriage and 
its driver. Of course I should find that young man 
still inside, probably giving directions where he wished 
to be taken. 

But that young man was not there. The carriage 
was empty. 

Though I was sure that this was the same carriage, 
horses and driver with which I had located my man, 
though I was sure I had kept that one carriage in 
view all the time, and that no one had left it without 
m.y knowledge, still I was staggered and at a loss to 


AN EXPERIENCE WITH FRENCH ASSISTANTS 


49 


at once know how to act. I took a quick glance at 
the interior of the vehicle, thinking that by some 
arrangement a man might conceal himself therein, 
but a moment’s inspection told me how impossible 
that would be there. 

“Who is that lady?” I asked the driver, and I must 
have thrown a tone of authority into my voice that 
impressed him, for he answered promptly and politely: 

“That is Madame De Torville — the wife of Mon- 
sieur, the great, wealthy speculator.” 

Pretty well puzzled, I returned to my cab. 

“You missed the game — followed the wrong car- 
riage,” I said to my driver. 

“What!” the man exclaimed, in an injured tone, 
“the wrong carriage! No, sir! I never took my eyes 
off it from the time you pointed it out until you were 
through talking with the driver of it.” 

“Your eyes,” I answered, “are those of a dead 
fish! Drive me back to where we started from.” 

And once back at the Opera House I reviewed the 
whole matter again and, steadily thinking, slowly 
walked over the route I had just taken on wheels. 
When I arrived in front of the elegant mansion of 
Mons. De Torville I took a close survey of its ex- 
terior. From there I directed my steps to the locality 
where the crime I was then investigating had been 
committed. 

There was the gloomy old house once occupied 
by Daniel Pereira. We knew that it had already 
been sold by his heirs. 


50 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


I entered the wine-shop of Monsieur Thomas di- 
rectly opposite to the old place, seated myself, called 
for refreshments, and generally behaved in a manner 
to make it evident that I was a stranger. Soon at- 
tracting in this way, as I desired, the attention of 
the landlord, that pleasant gentleman willingly joined 
me in a glass of wine and was liberal in supplying 
gratis information. I was a willing listener, and it 
was not long before I guided the conversation into 
matters relating to that neighborhood. 

Then I heard Mons. Thomas’ version of the pe- 
culiarities and sudden death of the wealthy Israelite, 
and he pointed out to me the house in which he had 
lived for so many years. 

“His death was very sudden,” the landlord said, 
“but it was not unexpected, for my wife says she saw 
three doctors drive up in a cab that day, and all of 
them were for considerable time in the house.” 

“Indeed,” said I, seemingly much interested at the 
story. “I see nobody lives in the house now.” 

“It has been sold,” M. Thomas replied. 

“I would just like to know who would buy such a 
gloomy old place as that. Who ever would, must 
have a queer taste!” I said. 

I had actually no thought in putting such a ques- 
tion, it was more for talking than anything else I 
spoke. 

“I did hear who was the purchaser,” said the polite 
landlord, “but really I forget the name; but my wife 


AN EXPERIENCE IVITH FRENCH ASSISTANTS 


51 


will remember, a wonderful memory my wife has; 
— the gentleman’s servant came in here to drink a 
glass of our wine and mentioned his master’s name. 
Wife,” he called out, “come hither.” 

The woman came to the table at which we were 
seated and courtesied to me. 

“What was the name of the man who bought the 
old Jew’s house? — you know his servant told us of it.” 

“Monsieur De Torville,” was the woman’s answer; 
“and his servant seemed to think that, as a speculator 
on the Bourse, his master was the greatest man in 
France.” 

“Monsieur De Torville!” That was the name of 
the husband of the woman who had gotten out of the 
carriage into which I had seen the man Fonier enter 
while it stood before the Opera House, and Fonier 
had left that carriage — where, and how? 

I and the landlord and landlady finished another 
bottle of wine, I paid my score, was lavish in polite- 
ness, lighted a cigar that was as mean as my French 
pronunciation, and departed with just a faint, new 
idea. 

Who was this Monsieur De Torville? 

“I’m going to find that out, anyway,” said I to 
myself. 


CHAPTER V 


HOW THEY DO SOME THINGS IN FRANCE 

On the street most frequented by stock-brokers and 
speculators, there was a small building, the first 
floor of which was occupied by a banking firm. 

In the rear was a door, with these words painted 
upon it: 

AUGUST RAUCHEZ, 

ACCOUNTANT 

In about half an hour after leaving the wine-shop 
of affable Mons. Thomas, I was tapping at the door 
of Monsieur August Rauchez. A voice told me to 
enter, and so I did. 

A short, stout man, of middle age, sat at a desk, 
smoking an old pipe. 

‘‘Good morning, Monsieur Rauchez,” I said. 

“Now then, be quick,” was the reply that came to 
me through a great puff of smoke. “What is it?” 

I laid down my professional card and also a docu- 
ment signed by the chiefs of the English and the 
French detective forces. 

“That will tell you who I am,” I said, 


HO IV THEY DO SOME THINGS IN FRANCE 


53 


Rauchez glanced at, but did not touch, my creden- 
tials. 

“I know you,” he said. “Speak on, and be quick.” 

“You know Monsieur De Torville?” I asked. 

“Well,” was the reply. “Is it business of the 
Bureau ?” 

“It is,” I answered. “I want to know all about De 
Torville.” 

“Sit down,” Rauchez said. “A year ago De Tor- 
ville came on the Bourse. He is the broker for 

Minister of — . That is enough.” 

“Where. did he come from, before coming on the 
Bourse?” I inquired. 

“How much is there in this?” asked Rauchez, as 
a reply to my question. 

“A hundred thousand francs,” I said. 

“And you want my services?” was the short inquiry 
of Rauchez. 

“As the greatest of Paris detectives,” I replied, 
bowing, with most impressive flattery. 

“A fair half, then,” Rauchez said. 

“A fair half,” I responded. 

“Then be quick and tell me the whole of what you 
have to tell,” said Rauchez. 

Quickly I laid before him, so far as I knew, every 
particular connected with the murder of Daniel Pe- 
reira. 

“This is hardly in my line,” quoth Mons. Rauchez; 
“Pm employed entirely on financial crimes.” 


54 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


“Wait a little,” I suggested, and then proceeded 
to relate how I had followed the private carriage 
which I had seen Fonier enter, and how the vehicle 
drew up at De Torville’s mansion, and only Madame 
De Torville alighted, leaving no one behind her. 

“There is no Madame De Torville,” said Rauchez; 
“he has a cousin and her name is Jeanette Fonier.” 

“By George!” I exclaimed, “and without doubt she 
is the sister of this Jean Fonier, the cab-driver, of 
whom I am in search!” 

“Very probably,” was the reply; “and you think 
there is a mystery. Wait, I will help you to clear it 
up. De Torville’s real name is Trappe. He was in the 

secret service for considerable time, and when , 

the present Minister of — , began to be known, to 
make himself popular, this Trappe made himself most 
zealous, and really useful in our now Minister’s 
service; and when the great man really reached high 
position, what more natural than that Trappe, to re- 
pay him for services rendered, as well as to keep him 
silent concerning many means employed to accom- 
plish certain ends — what more natural than that he 
should receive patronage, employment, valuable 
hints, and protection if that were needed? He is 
clever, and has been successful. If you ask me 
how, I reply — he has made money otherwise than on 
the Bourse.” 

“Do you suspect — ” I commenced. 

“I do,” interrupted Rauchez, “and that the Minis- 


HO IV THEY DO SOME THINGS IN FRANCE 


55 


ter of — suspects or knows it to be so; hence the order 
to keep the matter secret, and the desire on the part 
of the Jew’s nephews to let the crime be condoned on 
condition that they get back the plunder.” 

“And Fonier?” I asked, inquiringly. 

“Fonier is in concealment,” Rauchez said, “in 
Trappe’s house, and the Madame De Torville whom 
you saw alight at that door, was Fonier, no one 
else.” 

“I see it all,” was my reply, “he had his disguise 
in the carriage and seeing that he was followed, used 
it.” 

“You are right, without a doubt,” said the old 
Frenchman. 

“Well, I’m going to get back certain jewels, if they 
are in that lot, in spite of all the Ministers of — be- 
tween here and the North or South Pole,” I ex- 
claimed. 

“Wait,” said Rauchez, and he unlocked a drawer 
and took out a note-book. After examining it a min- 
ute he said: 

“De Torville, Trappe, was absent from the Bourse 
all day on the date of the robbery and murder. 
I will see him — he knows me well, I was once in 
charge of the Bureau that employed him. I had him 
up more than once for being too smart in his own 
behalf. Come here to-morrow.” 

I quitted the office of old Rauchez rather comb- 
cropped in idea of my own importance, it must be 


56 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


confessed. The cool manner and sure information, 
all ready and “on tap” when required, forced me to 
admit that they did have the service “down to rather 
fine points” in France. 

The next day, when I called at the little office of 
Rauchez, he handed me a letter, then almost pushed 
me out of his place. “Read that, and be quick about 
it,” was all he said, as he shut the door in my face. 

I sought a safe place and opened the note and 
read: 

“I have arranged all with De Torville. He will 
deliver the diamonds and other property for 300,000 
francs. At 11 o’clock to-morrow morning, Madame 
De Torville will be at home. Show this letter to 
Madame Fleury, of the secret police, and place the 
money in her hands. She will wait on Madame De 
Torville, pay the 300,000 francs to her, and receive 
a box containing the property, which she will satisfy 
herself is correct. Give her an accurate list of the 
jewels and other things. See her take a cab, deposit 
the box in it, and come to my office immediately. 

“Rauchez.” 

Next day at 11 o’clock a. m. Madame Fleury 
alighted from a cab at the mansion of Monsieur De 
Torville. A footman in livery showed her into a mag- 
nificent salon , and in a few minutes Madame De Tor- 
ville appeared, followed by a servant carrying a large 
sachel. The waiting-man retired and Madame De 
Torville opened the sachel. It was filled with mag- 


HOW THEY DO SOME THINGS IN FRANCE 


57 


nificent gems and massive master-pieces of the gold- 
workers’ art. Madame Fleury produced her inven- 
tory and compared it with the contents of the sach- 
el. It was correct. 

The documents I carried from Sir Lionel were so 
fully endorsed as to their credit and so ample in 
authorizing me to promise rewards, in his name, that 
even the cautious nephews of the old Jew broker, his 
heirs, were willing to take my word that a grand 
price, even over their original value, would be paid 
by Sir Lionel to recover his family heirlooms. They 
were pretty sure that these were among the lot left 
by, or stolen from their uncle, for old Mons. Daniel 
Pereira was rather deep in “shady” business himself. 
His heirs had a good inventory of the lost treasures, 
and they had looked over my list of what was desired 
by Sir Lionel. 

So these nephews willingly furnished the whole 
sum required to rescue the property they sought; 
and they could well afford to ransom it at even so 
high a price. 

After the female detective had verified every piece 
she counted out many bills and passed them over to 
Madame De Torville. 

“Here are the 300,000 francs,” she said. Then 
she tried to lift the sachel, but it was plainly an 
overtax on her strength. 

“Let my servant carry that for you to your cab,” 
said Madame De Torville. 


58 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


There could be no danger now, so the servant was 
summoned and bore the precious freight out of the 
house to the door of the conveyance, closely followed 
by Madame Fleury. 

“Madame,” said the cab driver, “have you far to 
go?” 

She gave him the directions of Mons. Rauchez. 

“I shall carry this for you, then,” the driver said, 
“for I find that the pin has come out from one of my 
wheels and I will have to leave my horse and cab 
here until I can return with one to replace it.” 

“Call another cab,” the female detective said, in an 
angry and disappointed voice. 

“They are hard to find around here, madame,” re- 
plied the cabman, “but I will carry the bag until we 
run across one.” 

“Go on, then,” ordered Madame Fleury, and she 
added, in an undertone, “I carry a pistol, and if you 
attempt any tricks with me, I shall shoot you dead.” 

The man assumed a look of surprise and horror, 
and then moved off; on his heels trod the female de- 
tective. 

At the end of the street was a wine shop and, with 
an apologetic bow, the cab-driver dived into this. The 
cross street was a crowded thoroughfare, otherwise 
the female detective would have followed him into 
the retreat, despite all annoyances. But as it was 
she had to wait until he returned, which he did in a 
moment or two. 


HOIV THEY DO SOME THINGS IN FRANCE 


59 


Madame Fleury gave a great sigh of relief as she 
saw the precious sachel in the man’s arms. A few 
blocks on they met an empty cab and the female de- 
tective and her treasures were transferred to it. 

When Madame Fleury reached the office of Mon- 
sieur Rauchez, she saw the driver of the cab carry 
the sachel inside. I was there awaiting her arrival. 

“Is all right?” Rauchez asked. 

“Yes! But, oh, what trouble, what perplexities!” 
she answered. 

She unclasped the sachel with a nervous, gratified 
smile on her face, and threw open the sachel. 

It was filled with pieces of broken glass, stones 
and bricks ! 

When the horrified woman had told her story from 
the time she received the sachel until its delivery 
there, Rauchez said: 

“I see it all. They bribed the driver while you 
were inside; he took the pin out of his cab as an ex- 
cuse to carry the bag. He turned into the wine-shop 
where a woman could not follow him — there was 
some one there waiting who changed sachels with 
him. That was all.” 

When I, with Madame Fleury, reached the De 
Torville mansion, a little more than an hour later, 
we found it in the possession of a furniture broker, 
who had purchased the contents the day before. 
Monsieur De Torville disappeared from Paris, and, 
a week afterward, when some of his creditors at- 


GO 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


tached his property, or attempted to, they found that 
the house purchased by him from the heirs of Daniel 
Pereira had been conveyed to one August Rauchez, 
and when I discovered this, some years afterward, 

I made inquiry and found that the deed of conveyance 
was drawn on the very day on which old Rauchez 
had handed me the letter of instructions as to how 
the stolen property was to be recovered. 

Just at that particular time, however, I was, and 
not without reason, very much out of conceit of my- 
self. I had had only accidents and blunders since 
first receiving hint of the case. There seemed to be 
a “hoodoo” in it for me, and I started for my rooms 
to report the whole truth to Sir Lionel and to resign 
all further connection with the matter, intending to 
refuse payment for what I had done, and confessing 
that the European, or French detective system, as I 
found it, was rather too much for me. 

But at my room I found letters awaiting me from 
Sir Lionel, and while I was reading them came a 
telegram urging me to report in person at once to 
him, leaving matters as they might La in France, 
for a new mystery with terrible threatenings and un- 
accountable ramifications had been brought to light. 

He depended on me alone. I must come! 

I went! 

And in twenty hours after meeting Sir Lionel I 
was on my way back to the United States. 


CHAPTER VI 


IN DAKOTA, U. S. A. 

The blizzard was over. 

All the two preceding days and nights it had 
shrieked and raged unceasingly, hurling the needle- 
like snow in blinding fury against the sturdy ranch 
buildings, and piling huge drifts to the roofs. 

Every object that had offered a check to the wild 
sweep of the storm had become transformed into a 
glittering mound of hard-packed snow. The “life- 
line” still hung as it had been strung at the beginning 
of the storm, as a guide from house to barn, a dis- 
tance of a hundred yards or less, afld, in ordinary 
weather, traced by a well-defined path. 

But those who have experienced the terrible force 
of one of Dakota’s mid-winter blizzards, the “shacker” 
farmer and ranchman, all know that journeys even 
shorter, attempted without the friendly guidance of 
the so-called “life-line,” have stretched into many 
weary miles, and ofttimes ended - in death. 

The people at “Monument Ranch” were not new 
to the land and its driving snow, and had at the com- 
mencement of the storm made every preparation nec- 
essary for safety and comfort. The big, iron, box- 

61 


as 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


shaped “Trojan” was kept roaring within, almost as 
loudly as the storm howled without, and the house- 
hold kept close to its noisy warmth, nor ventured out 
but twice during the progress of the storm to attend 
the needs of the dumb occupants of the stable. 

On this, the morning after the storm, the sun shone 
bright and warm, smiling down upon a wilderness of 
white, creating a dazzle that would put the most 
sparkling of precious stones to shame. In the valley 
the snow lay deep and but little drifted as compared 
with that on the prairie, and spots of bare ground 
marked the stage-road that wound along under the 
bluffs from Fort Yates to “Medicine Rock,” and 
which the sweeping wind had cleared. 

The scene about the ranch this morning was a 
busy one. All hands were hard at work with shovels 
and breaking-teams, clearing paths through piled-up 
snow to barns, corrals and “root-houses,” breaking 
paths for the half-hundred head of complaining cat- 
tle which were blockaded in the long row of sheds to 
the west of the barn, and had tasted neither food nor 
drink since the storm began, and attending to the 
wants of the occupants of the barn. 

Two of the boys were saddling-up at the barn- 
door, preparatory to a visit to the herd out on the 
range. 

Down by the corner of the water-corral, gazing rue- 
fully at the wreck of the windmill, which had been 
blown from its supporting frame, and now lay a 


IN DAKOTA, U. S. A. 


68 


smashed and distorted ruin at its base, stood the pro- 
prietor of the ranch, a young man, whose attitude 
showed him to be considerably disturbed by the ac- 
cident to his water supply. 

Tall, six feet one, in his stockings, broad-shouldered 
and muscular, a head of close-cropped brown hair, 
and a sweeping brown mustache; the eyes that 
looked from under the brim of the hat were of the 
“honest gray” kind, that inspired confidence and lik- 
ing when they met your own so fearlessly and true. 

And, indeed, their owner was liked and trusted all 
up and down the broad Missouri wherever known. 
Just now the expression of the face was not the hap- 
piest, for Charlie Warren well knew that with his 
windmill disabled, and the river half a mile away 
and covered with two feet and more of ice, the ques- 
tion of water for stock was a serious one. He pushed 
the hat back from his brow with a muttered impreca- 
tion on blizzards in general and this one in particu- 
lar, and turned toward the two men who were “cinch- 
ing up” by the barn-door. 

“O Jake!” 

The man addressed straightened up, and throwing 
the “slicker” he had been rolling up over the back of 
the saddle, shouted back “Hi!” by way of answer. 

“You and Teddy,” called Warren as he approached, 
“had better go out to the herd to-morrow. We’re 
going to have a tough job getting water, till I can 
fix up the mill, and we’ll need all hands here.” 


64 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


Jake, who had been looking down the river bottom 
as Warren approached, makes no reply, but lifts his 
hat of muskrat-skins, and holding it before his eyes 
as a shade from the glare of the snow, stands intently 
gazing down the valley. 

A moment he stands thus, then, without moving 
his eyes from the object which claimed his attention, 
says, slowly, as Warren reaches his side: 

“Say, Cap, sump’n’s up, sure. Here comes durn 
nigh the hull er Pritner’s outfit,” then, quicker: 
“Blessed if they ain’t a female wi’ ’em.” 

Warren, at the first words, had wheeled and looked 
down the valley, a mile or more away, where several 
objects met his eyes, growing rapidly more distinct. 
Riding at full speed, plunging through the drifts and 
clattering over the bare places, come a group of 
riders, and with paling cheek Warren notes that one 
is a woman. 

“Something is up,” he mutters. Then turning 
quickly to the nearest of the two ponies standing by, 
he swings into the saddle, and goes plunging off to 
meet the rapidly approaching party, shouting back 
to the two men as he goes: 

“Saddle up, we’re wanted!” 

Jake and his companion jump for the horse corral 
calling to the other men as they run. The breaking- 
team is left standing in the snow, shovels are dropped, 
ponies caught, and saddles thrown on, with that celer- 
ity which is part of the cowboy’s training. So that 


IN DAKOTA, U. S. A. 


65 


when Pritner and his five men come clattering up 
the path to the barn, each man stands ready to mount 
and ride for a life. 

As Warren draws near the riders he has hastened 
to meet, his eager gaze rests upon the second in the 
line, for they are riding in Indian file, and his heart 
gives a mighty throb of fear as he recognizes the fa- 
miliar forms of the little black pony, his gift, and its 
rider. 

“Sue!” he gasps to himself, then grows strong again 
as the comforting thought comes to him, “Whatever 
it is, she is safe.” 

The foremost rider in the line was “old Prit” him- 
self, who reined in his big roan as the young man 
drew near, but had only time to whisper, hoarsely, 
“Her sister ain’t turned up since Monday,” and she 
joined them. 

As the little black came plunging up, scattering the 
snow to the right and left in his eager leaps, Warren 
slipped from his saddle and ran to the side of the 
half-fainting girl. 

“What is it, Sue?” he cried. “What has hap- 
pened?” 

“Mattie !” was the gasping answer, “She is lost!” 
ending in a sob that rendered the last word almost 
unintelligible. 

Warren did not comprehend, but saw that some 
terrible grief had overwhelmed his sweetheart, and 
he wanted to be alone with her. He turned to Pritner, 

League 5 


G6 THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 

who had dismounted and was busy with his saddle, 
his men grouped near by on their horses. 

“Pritner, you and your men ride up to the house. 
Miss Ady and I will be along in a few minutes.” 

With a “Come on, boys,” Pritner swung into his 
saddle, and followed by the men, scurried off toward 
the ranch. The girl’s pony, which had been standing 
with drooping head and heaving sides after the ride of 
eight miles up the snow-drifted valley, started for- 
ward to follow its retreating companions, but War- 
ren’s hand fell upon the bridle-rein, lying loose upon 
the animal’s neck, and checked the pony, which stood 
still and with pointed ears gazed after the group now 
rapidly approaching the ranch. 

The girl was sobbing violently, her head bowed 
upon the saddle-bow. 

“Sue, what is it? Tell me, please,” pleaded War- 
ren, laying his hand upon the golden hair. 

“O Charlie,” she said, raising her tear-stained 
face to his kind eyes, so full of sympathy and love, 
“I am so frightened about Mattie. I have not seen 
her since she left me on Monday morning, to go to 
the school-house. You know how it commenced to 
storm early in the forenoon, and, although I was wor- 
ried about her when night came and she did not come 
home, I thought that she had probably stopped at 
Mr. Morse’s as she has before, you know, and I rode 
over there the first thing this morning; but they had 
not seen her, and she was not at the school-house, 


IN DAKOTA, U. S. A. 


67 


and Robbie Morse said she had left to go to his house 
at noon on Monday to get his father to come and 
take them all home. And no one has seen her 
since, and I’m afraid — Oh! I’m afraid — Oh! Char- 
lie, I’m afraid to think.” 

This account was so incoherent, and so interlarded 
with sobs, as to render it somewhat difficult of com- 
prehension to Warren; so, thinking that she would 
grow calmer as they rode, and knowing that it was 
very likely that Pritner knew all about the matter, he 
kissed the drooping head and said: 

“Let us hope for the best, dear. We’ll ride up to 
the house and get the search-party out as soon as 
possible. I suppose that is what Pritner and his men 
are here for, isn’t it?” 

She nodded in reply, and, as Warren leaped into 
his saddle, picked up her bridle-rein, and both dashed 
off toward the house. 

Meanwhile, Pritner and his men had arrived at the 
ranch and acquainted the men with the facts, which 
were as follows: 

Mattie Ady was lost. Had not been seen since 
Monday noon, when she had left the school-house, 
to go to the nearest farmer’s and get assistance in 
removing the children in her charge to a better shelter 
than the school afforded, should the storm be pro- 
longed. 

The children had waited in vain for Mr. Morse and 
his big “Studebaker” wagon, and had spent two days 


68 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


and nights in the lonely school-house, subsisting on 
the food that had been brought by each for a noon 
lunch on Monday — and this, together with Miss Ady’s, 
which she had left them, was all these poor little 
ones had eaten during their two days’ imprisonment. 
Fortunately there were boys among the pupils who 
were old enough to realize the gravity of the situa- 
tion; and, there being plenty of wood, the house was 
kept warm and the danger of freezing averted. Some 
of the smaller children, however, had nearly worn 
themselves out with weeping and fright. 

“Airly this mornin’, she,” jerking his thumb in the 
direction of the girl and Warren, who were dismount- 
ing at the house, “comes tearin’ over ter my place, 
half-crazy, sayin’ as Mattie hadn’t turned up, an’ she 
was afeard she was lost. She’d been over ter Morse’s 
an’ they hadn’t seed nothin’ of her sister. Morse 
hissef were off ter town arter th’ doctor, fer ter tend 
th’ little one — poor little gal! She were skeered nigh 
ter death, stayin’ in th’ school-shanty so long. So 
Sue, she comes er ridin’ over ter get me ter take th’ 
boys, ’n s’arch. She thought we’d better come up 
here ’n git Cap ’n you fellers t’ help.” 

Old Pritner slid out of his saddle as he finished, 
and affected to bjasy himself with tightening his back 
cinch, while he added, in a somewhat husky voice, 
“I’m afeard the little school-marm is gone up.” 

The men looked at each other with misty eyes; and 
even Jake, the toughest man, so-called, on the range, 


IN DAKOTA , U. S. A. 


69 

felt a strange lump rising in his throat as he thought 
of the plucky little “school-marm,” battling for life 
with the pitiless blizzard. 

The thought made him feel “queer,” and he turned 
and kicked an unoffending shovel out of his path, 
with a muttered “Too bad!” 


CHAPTER VII 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 

These two girls, Mattie and Sue Ady, were known 
and respected all up and down the Missouri, and the 
roughest cowboy or shacker in the country would 
have hesitated to offer them insult, well knowing 
that a hundred trusty six t -shooters would spring to 
their defense upon the instant. 

The girls had been in Dakota something over two 
years, had taken up claims, and supported themselves 
by teaching; the rule being between them that the 
one first securing a school should teach, while the 
other was to attend to the household duties, etc. 

Mattie, the elder, and she only about twenty-two, 
was teaching this winter in the new school-house, 
erected the preceding fall, a little 14x18 shanty, cov- 
ered with tar-paper and banked up by sod. Although 
her scholars numbered but fourteen, her pay was good, 
and the pupils all children of people she knew and 
called her “neighbors” — a neighborhood on the prai- 
ries of Dakota extending over an area of eight or ten 
miles. 

The girls were happy in their life. They had, 
so they thought, finally escaped from a doom that 
70 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 


71 


seemed inevitable. They were looking forward and 
laying plans for the future, which, since they had 
known Charles Warren, had seemed very rosy in- 
deed to little Sue, just past her eighteenth year. 

They had come from Illinois to Dakota, their moth- 
er being dead and their father worse — a drunkard 
who sought to live upon their shame. The Mr. Morse 
mentioned had met them, in their misery and want, 
in Illinois. He had come to Dakota the year before 
them and it was through his efforts and those of his 
wife that the girls were induced to make the venture, 
to brave the monotony and hardships of claim life, 
and they had never for one moment regretted the 
change. 

Who they were originally, what their history was, 
prior to four or less years ago, no one knew, or asked. 
The girls volunteered no information; that they were 
well-born, well-bred, honest girls was evident, and 
they were taken and valued at the value they placed 
upon themselves. 

Mattie was a young woman of considerable common 
sense, with a brave and unflagging spirit and a 
cheery, happy disposition; Sue — an animated sun- 
beam. Full of health and spirits, and feeling to the 
utmost the freedom of the life they were leading, she 
was never discontented, but was ever the same sunny- 
tempered, blue-eyed embodiment of enjoyment and 
gladness. She and Warren had been engaged for 
some time, and were to be married in the spring. 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


?2 


There was nothing romantic in their first meeting; 
in fact, it had been rather hard and practical to the 
young woman, who was bumping along the road with 
Mr. Morse in the springless wagon, on their way to 
town to get boards and tar-paper to erect a home 
for the two girls on the claim they had just “taken 
up.” 

They had met Warren returning from a trip after 
his mail, and Mr. Morse has drawn up his team to ask 
some questions concerning certain of his stock which 
had strayed. Of course the young people were in- 
troduced, and an acquaintance was formed that soon 
after ripened into love. 

Shortly after their first meeting, with her sister and 
Mr. and Mrs. Morse she visited Warren’s ranch; and 
there Sue had watched with interested eyes the opera- 
tion called “branding,” and pitied the poor little 
calves, pulled about and mauled so roughly by the 
cowboys, had seen feats of horsmanship executed by 
those knights in broad-brimmed hats and “chaps” 
that had delighted while they alarmed her a little. 

And then Warren had presented her with a beau- 
tiful, clean-limbed little black pony. Old Pritner had 
supplemented the gift with a saddle and horse-hair 
bridle, the latter beautifully braided by “Mexican 
Joe,” one of old Prit’s boys, and since that day it was 
not uncommon to meet her anywhere a dozen miles 
from her home, she and the pony alone, enjoying to- 
gether nature’s beauties of valley and prairie. 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 


73 


Mattie, too, had ridden some, but could never quite 
overcome a certain timidity on horseback — a fear of 
the animal beneath her— which to a certain extent 
spoiled the enjoyment of the healthful recreation ; and 
therefore she preferred to take her exercise on foot, 
walking to and from her school each morning and 
evening, a distance of about two miles. 

She had often made her daily trips through storms, 
but since she commenced teaching the “Morse 
school,” so-called, had never experienced any difficulty 
in reaching Mr. Morse’s house, which was but a 
quarter of a mile distant. 

Once, while teaching in an adjoining township, she 
had been obliged to stay in the school-house all night 
with her pupils, and had laughed over her adventure 
afterward with Sue. But it had imbued her with a 
wholesome terror of blizzards, and she often said to 
her sister that if she had a shelter during one of these 
fierce storms, she would not forsake it to search for 
anything better. 

And yet she had left the warm school-house two 
days before, in the midst of a blinding storm, to bat- 
tle her way over that quarter of a mile to get succor 
for the little ones under her care. 

The older boys had protested against her going — 
but when they found it useless to try to dissuade her, 
pleaded to go with her. But no, she would allow no 
one to leave the school-house but herself; and after 
kissing the younger children and charging the older 


74 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


ones to keep up a good fire, and allow none to leave, 
she had gone out into the swirl of rushing snow — ■ 
for what ? Had she taken this terrible risk of life mere- 
ly that those in her care might be spared a few hours 
of imprisonment and danger? 

All through the dreary hours that followed, the 
children had listened and waited in vain for the prom- 
ised relief. And when on Wednesday morning the 
sun had risen so calmly over the glittering prairie, 
and upon the little sod-banked shanty, dignified by 
the name of “school-house,” its inmates were a very 
frightened and woe-begone little band. 

With the sun came Mr. Morse, and great were his 
astonishment and fear when told that Miss Ady had 
left them to go to his house, two days before. He 
bundled the children into his straw-filled wagon, and 
carried them to his home, and made them comfortable 
until their several parents came or sent for them dur- 
ing the day. 

Mrs. Morse was much alarmed when told by her 
husband and their son Rob of Miss Ady’s departure 
from the school-house two days before; and then all 
else was driven from their minds by the illness of 
their little six-year-old Annie, whom the fright and 
hunger of the past two days and nights had driven 
into fever and delirium. The father had at once set 
out to bring the dcotor from the village, twelve miles 
distant, so the mother was left alone with a sick 
child of her own, and several of her neighbor’s chil- 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 


75 


dren not much better off, when Sue rode up to in- 
quire about her sister. 

On learning all that Mr. Morse and the children 
could tell her, she wasted no time, but started at 
once for Pritner’s ranch, which lay between Morse’s 
and Warren’s, filled with fears and forebodings whiCh 
grew more terrible as she rode and allowed her 
thoughts to dwell upon the awful force of the storm 
wihch had swept over the prairie since her sister was 
seen, and upon the only result which could follow 
exposure to its fury. 

Thus, it was in a state bordering on distraction 
that she had ridden up to Pritner, just coming from 
the stables, and implored him to assist her in search 
for the missing girl. Old Pritner had at once saddled 
up and, with five of his men, proceeded with her to 
Warren’s. 

All this Pritner had been telling in low tones to 
Warren, as they stood by the corner of the house. 
Sue was seated on the door-step, her head bowed up- 
on her knees, her slender frame shaken with the vio- 
lence of her grief. The two men stood looking at each 
other for a moment as Pritner finished his narration; 
then the old man’s ruddy face grew ruddier still, 
and the moisture welled up into his keen blue eyes as 
he bent forward and whispered into the ear of his 
companion: 

“I don’t believe there’s a ghost of a show; all the 
same we’ll find ’er, dead er alive, — er die a-tryin’, 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


% 

eh?” and he dashed his big fur mitten across his 
eyes. 

Warren nodded, with his gaze steadily fixed on the 
drooping figure in the doorway, and said: 

“Prit, see if the boys are all ready, will you, and 
sde that every man has his gun; we’ll want to signal. 
We’ll take the trail, if there is one, at the school- 
house — start from there, anyway. We’ll have to 
leave Sue at Morse’s.” 

“All right; best way,” Pritner responded, walking 
toward the group of men at the stable, who were 
talking of the affair with hushed voices, as even the 
roughest invariably speak in the presence of grief. 

Warren stepped to the side of his sobbing sweet- 
heart, and raised her drooping head, in a man’s clum- 
sy attempt at comfort. He feared the worst, yet 
could not tell her so; neither could he bid her hope 
while despairing himself. 

“My darling,” he said, “we’re going now to search, 
and I think you had better stay at Mr. Morse’s until 
we come back.” 

“Can’t I go with you, Charlie, please? I can’t sit 
still and wait. Please let me go,” as the young man 
shook his head, while stroking the golden hair that 
had escaped from its confinement and fallen in tum- 
bled, rolling waves to the door-stone. 

“No, dear,” he replied. “We may have a long, 
hard ride, and perhaps be out all night. You will 
be much better off with Mrs. Morse. You shall have 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 


77 


any news there may be just as soon as I can get it 
to you. You know, dear,” and he knelt on the step 
and passed his strong arms about her, his cheek 
close to her own, “I would give my life to spare you 
this grief. Don’t despair yet; there may be hope.” 

“Hope!” she moaned. “How can I hope when I 
read despair in the faces of all of you?” 

Warren had no reply to make to this, but soothing 
words and loving caresses, and, as she grew calm 
again, he arose, and, saying that they would start as 
soon as he had given necessary directions to the man 
to be left at the ranch, walked away toward the ne- 
gro who stood by the corner of the house, looking 
with staring eyes on a scene so unfamiliar. He was 
the cook of the establishment and was the only man 
to be left there. 

His orders were quickly given, and after securing 
his revolver from his bedroom, Warren rejoined Sue, 
buckling his belt as he stepped forth. She sat where 
he had left her, the fair head drooped upon her hands, 
her lovely hair falling like a veil to conceal her tears. 

Charlie stroked the bright tresses for a moment in 
silence, and, as she raised her eyes to his, he stooped 
and kissed the trembling lips, saying: 

“Be a brave little woman, now that you know we 
will do all we can do — ” 

“Charlie,” she interrupted, “do you” — desperately — 
il is there any hope?” 

“My darling,” he answered, “I do not know — ” His 


78 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


voice broke, and he looked in silence down at the 
white face and the pleading eyes. He could not find 
words to tell her what he feared; but she read in his 
face the answer which he could not speak. 

The eyes closed tightly and the quivering lips 
moaned, “Oh! Mattie, Mattie!” Then, springing up, 
she ran toward her waiting pony, saying: 

“Come, let us get started at once, I will stay at 
Mrs. Morse’s, only, Charlie,” as he lifted her into the 
saddle, “you must let me know just as soon as you — ” 
with a sob in the low voice — “just as soon as you are 
— sure." 

“Yes, dear, you shall know,” answered Warren, 
“just as soon as I can get you word.” 

Then, placing the bridle-rein in her hand and wav- 
ing a signal to Pritner and the men waiting by the 
barn, he mounted his own horse and the search-party 
dashed down the valley. 

The trail lay along the river-bottom for several 
miles, leaving it for the prairie at a point called “In- 
dian Buttes,” where the river-bank rose abrupt and 
sheer to the height of a hundred feet or more. These 
buttes were about half-way between the ranches of 
Warren and old Prit. Here they met Mr. Morse 
and three neighbors, on their way to Warren’s, from 
which place, they had been told at Pritner’s, the 
search-party would start. Sue eagerly greeted the 
foremost rider with: 

“Mr. Morse, have you heard anything?” 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 


79 


“No,” he replied, sadly; “nothing as yet. I have 
just come from the house. The doctor is there with 
the little one. You’ll stay with my wife, won’t you, 
Sue, until we come back?” 

Warren answered for her, noting that the flash of 
hope, so soon over, had left her without power of 
speech: “Yes, we’re on the way there now. Sue 
will stay with Mrs. Morse while we search. We 
start from the school-house.” 

Then, dropping behind, alongside of Jake, who 
rode next to him, for they had been moving ahead 
all the time, he said, in a low tone: 

“Jake, pass the word to the boys to spread a little, 
and keep a sharp eye out, but take care that Miss 
Ady does not notice you.” 

The man, quickly comprehending, nodded and 
drew rein. Warren joined the two riding ahead, and, 
save for an occasional remark between the two men, 
the balance of the ride was made in silence. War- 
ren’s glance turned often to the pale face of the girl 
at his side, noting, with a feeling of uneasiness, the 
set features and wide, dry eyes, upon which the daz- 
zling glare from the sun seemed to have no effect. 
She had noted the long line of horsemen reaching to 
the right and left of the trail, and knew full well what 
it all meant. 

The terror and suspense of the preceding day and 
night, which still had held an element of hope, the 
wild grief of the morning, when the answer to her anx- 


80 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


ious inquiries had robbed her of that hope, had given 
place to stony despair. She read the fate of her 
loved and loving Mattie in the sympathizing eyes of 
her lover and the averted glances of her old friend 
and neighbor, who could not trust himself to meet 
the misery in the blue eyes always so full of happi- 
ness and so free from care. 

The coming of the long line had been watched by 
Mrs. Morse, and she was waiting at her door, and as 
the three rode up she ran quickly to the side of Sue, 
and, lifting her from the saddle, with kind words and 
motherly caresses, drew the half-fainting girl into 
the house. Here, in the tender arms of the pitying 
woman, Warren left his sweetheart, and spurred off 
toward the school-house, where the men were as- 
sembling rapidly. Here they were joined by two 
neighbors of the girl who had children attending the 
school. Warren rode at once to the side of a swarthy 
half-breed, one of Pritner’s men, who was some dis- 
tance out on the prairie, crouching along like a setter 
dog hunting game. The man was one of the best 
trailers in the country, and Warren hoped for much 
from his skill. 

“Find anything, Joe?” he asked. 

The man straightened up, and shook his head, “No 
can find good. Too much blow.” 

Warren understood. The sweeping wind had cov- 
ered the faint footprints which were made so early in 
the storm, and it was only on the bare spots of hard 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 


81 


ground that the slightest trace was likely to be dis- 
covered. To proceed in this way would be a long 
and tedious task, even if successful, and he conclud- 
ed that it would be best to continue the search as it 
had been begun when they left the river. 

“Well, Joe,” he said, turning to his horse, “we’ll 
spread, and use our eyes. You need not take any 
place in line but work your own way. If you strike 
any trace follow it up. If you want Pritner or me, 
fire a shot. If you — ” hesitating — “if you find her, 
fire twice — understand?” 

The man gave a grunt, nodded, and resumed his 
search for the trail, while Warren shook his bridle- 
rein and galloped back to the school -house to give a 
few last instructions before the start. 

“Boys,” he said, as he drew up beside Pritner, “I 
don’t think you need the offer of a reward to keen 
you up to doing your very best trailing to-day. All 
the same the man that finds that poor girl will be 
well remembered. Now we’ll spread out, keeping 
about a hundred yards apart. Pritner, you take the 
right of the line. Jake, you take the left, and I’ll 
take the center. Fire one shot if you want me, 
two if you find her. Now spread out and move 
slowly. We go south.” Then to Pritner, “Joe 
seems to be trailing that way.” 

“Yes,” answered old Prit, “the storm moved south 
and she prob’ly went wi’ it ’fore she got a great 
ways. They alius do, yer know;” then wheeled and 
rode out to his place on the right of the line. 


82 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


All day long the line moved over the drift-covered 
prairie, the men leaning from their saddles, and now 
and then dismounting to kick into a drift that might 
cover the lost girl. 

Late in the afternoon Pritner rode up to Warren, 
and said: 

“Cap, might’s well g’ over ter my place ’n git 
suthen ’n th’ way o’ grub.” 

“All right,” Warren had replied, “you and the men 
go. I don’t want anything. Get back as soon as 
you can.” 

And they had ridden off to Pritner’ s ranch, only 
three miles away, leaving himself and Joe to continue 
the search, for Joe never left a trail to eat or sleep, 
unless driven off it. 

When the men returned the two trailers were far 
ahead, moving toward the southeast. Joe had given 
up trailing, for there was no trail, but looked only 
for evidences of the direction probably taken by the 
girl. 

The line soon overtook them, and Warren resumed 
his place in the center; Joe dropped behind and was 
soon left far in the rear. 

As the sun was slowly sinking behind the bluffs on 
the western side of the river, the men in line were 
startled by two shots, fired in rapid succession, com- 
ing from the direction of a dry lake-bed that lay to 
the left of, and some distance behind, the left of the 
line. 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 


83 


The reports came rolling across the snow-covered 
prairie to Warren, and wheeling his horse, with a 
muttered “Found!” he spurred in the direction from 
which the sound had seemed to come. He remem- 
bered, as he tore along, fast as his fleet animal could 
carry him, that it was off here in this direction he 
had last seen Joe. He it was who must have fired 
the shots. 

Yes, Joe had found her — it. 

The trailer had proved the superiority of his method 
over blind search. As the men dashed up where Joe 
stood, the big six-shooter still in his hand, he pointed 
silently; and, looking, no man in the little band ever 
forgot the sight that met his gaze. 

This “dry-lake” was a natural reservoir for the 
melted snow and for the rains of spring, and from 
the moisture thus given, the grass, during the spring 
and summer months, grew tall and rank. Old 
Pritner had cut it the preceding fall and piled it in 
hugh stacks, to feed from when needed In the side 
of one of these stacks, facing the south, crouched 
the frozen form of the little “school-marm.” 

The blizzard had conquered. The pitiless fiends 
of storm and wind had wrested the brave spirit from 
the frail little body, and added another to the long 
list of victims of Dakota’s frightful winters. 

It sat in a crouching attitude, half-leaning back 
against the stack, the small, mittened hands clasped 
upon the knees, the marble -white face, from which 


84 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


the hood had fallen back, leaving the brown head 
bare, was lifted toward the sky, and the gentle eyes, 
over which a thin film of ice had formed, were raised 
as though in supplication to the God of storms. 

Oh! the yearning agony of those frost-clad feat- 
ures; and yet there was a certain peace in the frozen 
face, as if an angel had whispered an answer to the 
prayer, even as the icy finger of death had touched 
and stilled the warm little heart forever. 

Warren dismounted from his horse and stood for a- 
moment, his arm resting on the animal’s mane. His 
eyes grew dim and his throat was choked as he read 
the story of anguish and suffering in the dead face 
before him. Old Pritner was winking hard, a big, 
salty drop hanging from the tip of his sharp nose. 
Jake was swearing terrible oaths under his breath. 
Poor old Jake! But it was the only relief that he 
could find for feelings that were too strong for him, 
he had no thought of desecrating the presence of the 
dead, and the feelings now awakened in his breast 
were those to which he had been a stranger for many 
years. 

At last Warren was the first to break the silence. 

“Pritner, you lift her up to me,” he said, and 
climbed back into his saddle. 

Old Prit stepped forward to the frozen clay, bare- 
headed he stooped to gather the frail figure in his 
strong arms, and he gazed in wonder at the transfig- 
ured face. 


FOLLOWING A COLD TRAIL 


85 


Tne sun was fast sinking and in its adieu it kissed 
with lingering tenderness the upturned face of the 
dead girl. A last warm caress of the loving eyes 
that would kindle with life and gladness at his smile 
no more. The sight was not new to him; he had 
looked upon many a frozen face upturned to his light 
and warmth from off the breast of these snow-clad 
prairies, yet he seemed to linger upon the sweet calm 
of this countenance as though loth to leave it to the 
shadows and the night. 

Of what this poor girl had suffered ere Death took 
her in his arms, none knew save the Infinite One who 
had sent His angel to release and to take her to His 
home. 


CHAPTER VIII 


A STILL HUNT AND A SIDE ISSUE 

Sad as is death, the world-wise grieve for those 
who stay here — not for those who go hence; and the 
tears on the faces and in the hearts of those rough 
men who bore all that was mortal of Mattie Ady 
across the snowy waste in the evening light, were for 
the stricken, sorrowing, still living one to whom they 
must deliver their burden — the gentle, loving Sue. 

Why do I write this long story of a simple girl’s 
death on a storm-swept prairie? 

Because it is a beautiful, white interval in a long 
shadow of black deeds; because there, for a short 
time, I was amongst true, brave, honest men, and 
pure, noble women. 

For I was of “old Prit’s gang. ” I had tracked the 
parties whom I had so hastily departed in search of, 
from England to my native land; I had tracked them 
to a small town in Illinois. There I learned that the 
woman I sought was dead and that the man, after 
sinking lower and lower in dissipation, had drifted 
away, nobody knew or cared whither. There had 
been two girls in the family, who had always striven 
to keep up appearances, had gained the sympathy 
86 


A STILL HUNT AND A SIDE ISSUE 


87 


and respect of the entire community, but had always, 
in common with those they called their parents, been 
persistently uncommunicative in regard to their past 
history. 

The girls, after death of the mother and abandon- 
ment of the father, had, I learned, gone to Dakota 
on the advice or solicitation of a Mr. Morse, formerly 
a resident of that town. It was easy to trace these 
two maidens, and, in hope that I might find from 
them some facts I desired — of course without their 
knowing, unless I saw fit fo enlighten them, that they 
were giving me any information- —I followed them to 
the land of the blizzard. 

I had already had, among many other experiences, 
my turn of life as a cowboy, and as such I appeared 
in that section. I tried to find employment with Mr. 
Morse, but he wanted no more help, so I was forced 
to hire to old Pritner, and so did, trusting to luck 
and accident and the loose tongues of a neighborhood 
sparsely settled, where news is scarce and tongues 
wag freely, to pick up such items as I could, and 
finally, in some way, become acquainted, and friend- 
ly as possible, with the two girls known as Mattie 
and Sue Ady. 

I say, known as Mattie and Sue Ady — and sisters. 

Already I knew that the name Ady was assumed, 
and also that they were not sisters — whether they 
knew as much in regard to these two vital points, I 
had not been able to determine; for only a week be- 


88 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


fore the death of the eldest, as I have told in the 
preceding chapters — only a week before I was called 
upon to aid in the hunt of her poor body, had I ar- 
rived upon the scene to prosecute my professional 
and secret inquiries. 

Why I had traveled so great a distance to find this 
family of four, two of whom were now dead and the 
man a wanderer, no one knew whither — why I took 
all this trouble to search so far will be found in what 
follows of my story. 

Knowing that for some time it would be impossible 
to approach Sue Ady in any manner that would be 
likely to permit of investigation into family matters, 
and aware also that I could, in all human probability, 
find her just at that spot at any future time, for of 
course the gossip of the men had informed me of 
her approaching marriage with Charlie Warren, in- 
deed had given me most of the details I have written 
about their early life in the prairie home — aware of 
all this, I resolved to hark back to some of the large 
Western cities where it was probable the vagabond 
man I desired to meet was still dragging out a miser- 
able existence. 

I knew, from his record in my possession, that he 
would not hesitate to engage in criminal acts, if liquor 
had not so besotted him as to render him worthless 
to those who might associate him with them. 

To Chicago I went, and not in very respectable 
guise or haunts did I appear. It was not long before 


A STILL HUNT AND A SIDE ISSUE 8d 

I found trace of one I thought was my man and in 
just such company as I expected to locate him. 

In order to put my hands directly on him I had to 
look up the crowd in which I supposed he was work- 
ing and I soon found that it was headed by an old 
acquaintance of mine, a fellow whom I had often 
tracked before, but who had always baffled my efforts 
to fix crime upon him. 

This man was Jim Bradley, the chief of a gang of 
counterfeiters. 

Some ten years before, when I was young and 
green, I had tracked him to his den in an Eastern 
city, but when I and the other officers appeared, 
every tool had vanished and no trace of crime could 
be found. 

Naturally much annoyed, I had exclaimed: 

“You have beat me this time, Jim Bradley, but I’m 
no man if you do the next.” 

“When you catch me, hold me!” he grinned. 
“How dare you malign an innocent man?” 

I had never had a chance for another “go” at 
Bradley until I learned of his presence in Chicago at 
this time and there was a personal feeling in the 
eagerness with which I set about catching him. 

I tracked him to his place of operations, in a 
wretched quarter of the city. The house they used 
was kept by an old Irishwoman. 

Being sure of my points I went to police head- 
quarters and soon arranged for a detail of men. 


90 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


It was a dark, gusty winter’s night when we 
swooped down upon the coiners. Leaving the police 
at a little distance I kocked at the door of the house. 
There was no answer and I repeated the summons. 
At last the door was opened by the old landlady, 
bearing a flaring tallow candle. 

“Phat d’ yees want?” she said. 

“One of your lodgers, Mrs. O’Brien,” I answered, 
as I pushed into the entry and coughed, the signal 
that caused the police officers to come up. 

“Oh, th’ perleece! Oh! murther! what’s the mat- 
ther now?” she shrieked. 

Leaving her in charge of one man we sprang up 
the stairs. Reaching the landing, all was dark save 
a faint glimmer from a door in front of us. I tried 
the handle but it was locked. 

I put my shoulder to the door and burst it open. 

Jim Bradley sat composedly at a table with an- 
other man, playing cards. 

He did not know me, after all those years. “Hello ! 
you don’t stand on ceremony, my friend,” he said, 
laughing, “I thought every man’s house was his cas- 
tle?” 

“So it is, Jim, until he makes it a shield for law- 
breaking,” I answered. 

“Prove yer words, my man.” 

“I will, I hope. So you consider yourself a pris- 
oner, while I make search.” 

“Please yourself and take the consequences,” he 
replied, carelessly, and went on with his game. 


A STILL HUNT AND A SIDE ISSUE 


91 


We sounded the walls, groped up chimneys and 
tried the flooring. Not one sign, and Jim Bradley’s 
indifference perplexed me more. 

“I’m afraid I’m done again,” I thought, when I 
heard a heavy step in the room above. 

“What’s that upstairs?” I asked. 

“A sick man and a woman,” said an officer who 
had gone up to investigate. 

“I wish he’d die, or keep his groanin’ to himself,” 
spoke up Bradley, and somehow it struck me that 
there was no need for him to speak at all just then. 

“The sick man’s a ruse, perhaps,” was the idea 
that flashed upon me. 

Leaving two men on guard, I said, “Come, boys, 
we’ll go up.” 

The back attic was as bare as bare could be. When 
I was about to enter the other the door opened and 
a grave-looking, respectably dressed gentleman ap- 
peared. 

“Hush,” he said, “a man is dying in there, and his 
wife is distracted.” 

“Who are you, sir?” I asked, abruptly. 

“I am Doctor Alexander; my office is at the corner 
of Blank Street,” he replied, with a smile of dignified 
contempt. “And now, sir, who are you?” 

I told him my business. He was at once serious 
and interested. 

“To tell you the truth,” he said, “I suspect every- 
body, able to commit crime, in this house. We 


92 


The league of guilt 


doctors see much. But I don’t fancy this poor man 
and woman have strength or intelligence for dishon- 
esty, and the man is breathing his last. But you must 
do your duty. Come in and make certain, only be 
gentle as you can.” 

I entered the miserable place ; the dying man was 
on a pile of rags in a corner, the starved-looking wife 
hung moaningly over him and pressed his head to her 
bosom. 

“This world is full of dead and dying and ghosts, 
for me, of late,” I thought. “I’ll leave the business 
if I have much more of this to face.” 

The sight before me wrung my heart. I was mov- 
ing to the side of the doctor, who knelt down by the 
man, when he motioned me back. 

The features of his patient grew rigid, the doctor 
seized the arm and felt for the pulse, then dropped 
the limb. 

“I thought so,” he whispered; “all is over!” 

The woman dropped the nerveless head and fell 
forward in a faint. 

I got out of that place and gave up the job for the 
time, and Jim Bradley laughed long and loud and 
still retained his residence there. 

The next week I disguised myself as a Jew, using 
every bit of skill I possessed to render my “make-up” 
perfect and undetectable. Then I visited the old 
house again, bag on back, to buy or sell old clothing 
or anything else. I found Bradley and offered him 


A STILL HUNT AND A SIDE ISSUE 


93 


such a bargain in a suit that he felt forced to buy it, 
concluding at the same time that I must have stolen 
it or received it from a thief. 

He paid me, and, as I hoped, partly in spurious 
coin. I winked knowingly at him and asked if he 
had no other change handy. 

“Why, old man, what’s the matter with that 
money ?” 

I answered that the coin was all right, and I hand- 
led a good deal of that sort, only I never took it at 
its full face value. 

“Oh, I see. Look here, where can a friend of 
mine see you?” 

I gave him the address where I had fixed up a sort 
of cellar-hole as an old rag, iron and clothing shop. 

“All right, my friend will call,” he said as he read 
and stowed away the card. 

“Heaven pless you, my kint frient,” I said, and I 
hurried away to have my shop open for customers 
and callers. 

In the afternoon who should come in but “Doctor 
Alexander,” the very man. 

I had ascertained that the physician I met at the 
house was not the Doctor Alexander who actually 
had an office at the locality stated, and I was par- 
ticularly glad to see this gentleman once more. 

“Good day, old man,” said the doctor; “one of my 
men, my workmen, bought a coat from you this 
morning.” 


94 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


“Yesh, sir,” I replied, humbly. 

“Has he paid you?” 

“Well, he intended to.” 

“What do you mean? Was the money not good?” 

I soon gave him to understand that I would take 
more of it, at a big discount. 

We could not talk then, so I told him to come that 
night and knock at the back cellar door, which led 
into a partitioned off room which I had furnished 
nicely to trap just such birds. 

Then I managed to send a note to the chief of de- 
tectives, carefully, fori knew that the “crooks” would 
watch my place well. 

About seven o’clock a big Jewish woman entered 
my place, and after talking a little I found that the 
female was an officer in disguise. From time to 
time other disguised officers entered and in about an 
hour I had a guard of six in my place, but all of them 
looking as though they could well be trusted to do 
any “crooked” work that might be proposed to them. 

At eight o’clock there was a low rap on the back 
door. I carefully opened it, and the doctor and Jim 
Bradley entered my private room. Never had I more 
heartily welcomed guests. 

Three of the disguised detectives had sauntered 
out by the front, so as to lead any watchers to think 
the cellar was empty; those who remained were hid- 
den behind old dresses and coats hangingonthe wall. 
The front cellar was dark as a pocket, but what went 


A STILL HUNT AND A SIDE ISSUE 


95 


on in my back room, where there was light, could be 
seen. 

I had good liquor for my visitors and I poured it 
out freely, they talked and drank and soon we were 
consulting without the least reserve. It was arranged 
that I was to “shove” the bogus coin, and to obtain 
it by going once a week to the headquarters, gaining 
entrance by giving the watchword, “Alexander,” (the 
name of the “doctor”). 

At last they handed me two hundred counterfeit 
dollars, for which I paid them fifty in genuine coin, 
the rate upon which we had agreed. 

The moment this transaction was taking place, 
and while their eyes were down on the good pieces, 
two great men stepped from the darkness of the door 
leading to the front shop and covered Jim and the 
doctor with pistols, the other officers came in prompt- 
ly, and we had the pair handcuffed before they could 
offer resistance or hardly even speak a word of sur- 
prise or protest. 

Then I threw off my disguise of face and dress and 
looked Bradley in the face, and then he knew me as 
his victim of old. 

“Well, old boy,” he said, cool as ice, “it’s your 
turn now, eh? I did you neatly long ago, and you 
waited to get even, and I guess you’ve got it.” 

I sent the two to the station and by the time I had 
resumed my disguise the officers were back. Then 
we went to Jim’s house, and again the ancient dame 


96 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


answered the summons. I gave the watchword “Alex- 
ander” and was at once admitted. 

“Wan flight o’ stairs, an' turn till yer left, good 
gintilmon, ef yes plaze,” said the old crone. 

I asked her to get a light, as I didn’t know the 
house and didn’t want to break my neck. 

Grumblingly, she went up to a room for a candle. 
Quick as lightning I opened the door and the officers 
entered and concealed themselves in a dark corner 
of the old hall. No sooner did the woman appear, 
with a light in her hand at the head of the stairs, than 
I exclaimed: 

“All right, I can see now,” and up I went. 

Opening the door, I saw only one man sitting be- 
fore the table, and his cadaverous face I recognized, 
especially as with him was the young woman whose 
heart had been so broken by the death of this same 
husband. 

Further disguise was unnecessary; I whistled for 
the officers, they dashed up and in and we soon had 
the young couple comfortably fixed. 

Search rewarded us by finding in a hole in the wall 
and the floor, just behind and under the bundle of 
rags that had been transferred from the attic, all 
the tools, dies, necessary to convict the entire party, 
even if the young fellow and his wife had not turned 
state’s evidence, which they were allowed to do, and 
very valuable information they furnished. 

Jim Bradley and the doctor were “railroaded” to 


A STILL HUNT AND A SIDE ISSUE 


97 


prison in less than a week, and the young man found 
in their company, seemingly really desirous of reform- 
ing, I kept in my employ for some time. He was 
a smooth, oily fellow and English by birth, and I 
thought I could use him in the great base that was 
interesting all my time and ability. 

He had been “crooked” all his life, thieves’ lan- 
guage came as natural to his tongue as plain words 
do to honest lips, and his first account to me of his 
life was given in such perfect argot , of its kind, that 
to me, who had long been a student of this matter, 
it was most interesting; and knowing that to many 
others this peculiar study has a like fascination, I 
think I can spare space to introduce here the story as 
it was told to me. The introductory paragraphs are 
the results of some of my own investigations and, I 
think, valuable in this connection. 


League 7 


CHAPTER IX 


ENGLISH BOB AND THIEVES’ ARGOT 

Any one who gains this accomplishment, if such it 
may be called, will find many points of interest in 
that strange collection of words which goes in En- 
gland by the name of cant, argot, or thieves’ slang. 
It has its antiquity as well as its power of growth 
and development by constant accretion. In it are 
preserved many words interesting to the student of 
language, and from it have passed not a few words 
into the ordinary stock of the Queen’s English. Of 
multifold origin, it is as yet mainly derived from Ro- 
many or gipsy talk, and therein contains a large 
Eastern element in which old Sanscrit roots may 
readily be traced. Many of these words would be un- 
intelligible to ordinary folk, but some have passed 
into common speech. For instance, the words bam- 
boozle, daddy, pal (companion or friend), mull (to 
make a mull or a mess of a thing), bosh (from the 
Persian), are pure gipsy words that have found lodg- 
ings, in fact a home, in our vernacular. Then there 
are survivals (not always of the fittest) from the 
Teutonic tongue, and the cosmopolitan absorptions 
from many a tongue. From the French “bouilli” came 


ENGLISH BOB AND THIEVES' ARGOT 


99 


the prison slang-term “bull” for a ration of meat. 
“Chat,” thieves’ slang for house, is obviously chateau. 
He who “does a tray” (serves three months’ imprison- 
ment) borrows the words from our Gallican friends. 
So from the Italian comes casa for house, filly ( < figlia ) 
for daughter, donny {donna) for woman, and omee 
( Homo ) for man. The Spanish furnishes don , which 
the English universities have not despised as a useful 
term. From the German is gleaned “durrynacker,” 
for a female hawker, from dorf, “a village,” and 
nachgehen, “to run after.” From Scotland is added 
duds for clothes, and from the Hebrew sJioful, for 
base coin. 

Purely of native manufacture, however, and entire-, 
ly artificial, are the two classes, or rhyming and back- 
slang, which mingle with cant to make a whole. By 
the former any word that rhymes with the one you 
mean to use is put in its place and gradually becomes 
accepted. This has the merit of unintelligibility 
when it is not desired to let the chance passers-by 
know of what we are speaking, which naturally oc- 
curs not seldom in these days of detectives and plain 
clothes policemen. Suppose I have “touched” (i. e., 
been successful in some robbery) and feel inclined 
for a season of relaxation with my sweetheart (or one 
of them) I’d say to her: 

“Come, cows and kisses, put the battle of the Nile 
on your Barnet Fair, and a rogue and a villain in 
your sky-rocket; call a flounder and dab with a tidy 


100 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


Charing Cross, and we’ll go for a Bushey Park along 
the frog and toad into the live eels.” 

This would be, apparently, a jumble of nonsense, 
but, as a matter of fact, to a master or mistress of 
rhyming slang, it would be at once understood as: 

“Come, missus, put a tile (hat) on your hair, and 
a shilling in your pocket; call a cab with a tidy horse 
and we’ll go for a lark along the road into the fields.” 

And the second class of manufactured slang is that 
largely patronized by costermongers. It is called 
back-slang and simply consists of spelling (more or 
less accurately) the words backward. Thus: “Hi, 
yob! kool that enif elrig with the nael ekom. Sap 
her a top o’ reeb and a tib o’ occabot;” is only “Hi, 
boy! look at that fine girl with the lean moke (don- 
key). Pass her a pot o’ beer and a bit o’ tobacco.” 
The art and merit of this form of slang consists in 
the rapidity, often most remarkable, with which such 
words can be reversed. Thus a gentleman, wishing 
to test the skill of a professor of this art with a word 
not common in the market, asked his coster-friend 
what was the back-slang for hippopotamus, and in 
an instant he had his reply “Sumatopoppy,” the y 
being euphoniously put for ih. 

Considering that in the manufacture of the domes- 
tic and social slang of nicknames or pet names, not 
a little wit or humor is commonly found, it might be 
imagined that thieves’ slang would be a great treas- 
ure-house of humorous expression, That this is not 


ENGLISH BOB AND THIEVES' ARGOT 


101 


the case arises from the fact that there is very little 
glitter even in what they take for gold, and that their 
life is mainly one of miserable anxiety, suspicion, 
and fear; forced and inspired by alcohol, is their mer- 
riment, and dismal, for the most part, are their faces 
when not assuming an air of bravado which deceives 
not even their companions. Some traces of humor 
are to be found in certain euphemisms, such as the 
delicate expression, “finger-smith,” as descriptive of a 
“tradesman” whom a blunt world would call a pick- 
pocket; or, again, to get three months’ hard labor is 
more pleasantly described as getting thirteen clean 
shirts, one being served out in prison each week. 
The tread-wheel, again, is more politely called the 
everlasting stairway, or the wheel of life, or the ver- 
tical care-grinder. Penal servitude is dignified with 
the appellation of serving Her Majesty for nothing, and 
even an attempt is made to lighten the horror of a 
climax of a criminal career by speaking of dying in 
a horse’s night-cap, i. e., a halter. 

With this preface I transcribe, and interpret, the 
following autobiography, which is both authentic and 
true. It is a typical career that might be that of 
thousands in East London. 

Here is the story: — 

I was born about 1863 at Stamford Hill, Middle- 
sex. My parents removed from there to Stoke 
Newington, when I was sent to an infant school. 
Some time after I was taken by two pals (compan- 


102 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


ions) to an orchard to cop (steal) some fruit, me be- 
ing a mug (inexperienced) at the game. This got 
to my father’s ears and when I went home he set 
about me with a strap until he was tired. He thought 
that was not enough, but tied me to a bedstead — 
you may be sure of what foollwed. I got loose, tied 
a blanket and a counterpane together, fastened it to 
the bedstead, and let myself out of the window, and 
did not go home that night, but dossed (slept) in a 
haystack. Early next morning my pals said that 
they knew where we could get some toke (food) and 
took me to a terrace; we went down the dancers 
(steps) to a safe and we cleaned that out of every 
scrap. Two or three days after I met my mother, 
who, with tears, prayed me to come home, and so I 
went with her. My parents then moved to Clapton, 
where they sent me to school; my pals used to send 
stiffs (notes) to the schoolmaster saying I was wanted 
at home; but instead of that we used to go and smug 
snowy (steal linen) that was hung out to dry, or rob 
the baker’s barrows. Things went from bad to worse 
with my father and me, and so I felt obliged to leave 
home again. This time I palled in with some older 
hands at the game who used to take me parlor-jump- 
ing (robbing rooms), putting me in where the win- 
dows was open. I used to take anything there was 
to steal, and at last they told me about wedge (silver 
plate), how I should know it by the ramp (hall mark — 
rampant lion); we used to break it up into small pieces 


ENGLISH BOB AND THIEVES' ARGOT 


103 


and sell it to the watch-makers, and afterward to a 
fence (buyer of stolen goods) down the Lane (Petti- 
coat Lane). Two or three times a week I used to go 
to the Brit (Britannia Theater) in Hoxton, or the 
Gaff (penny music room) in Shoreditch. I used to 
steal anything to make money to go to these places. 
Some nights I used to sleep at my pals’ houses and 
sometimes in a shed where there was a fire kept 
burning night and day. All the time up to this I had 
kept clear of the reelers (police) but one day I was 
taken for robbing a baker’s cart, and got twenty-one 
days. While in prison I made pals with another chap 
who was there, he came from Shoreditch, and prom- 
ised to meet him when I got out, which I did, and we 
used to go together, and left the other pals at Clap- 
ton. 

At last, one day we was at St. John’s Wood, I 
went in after some wedge: while picking some up off 
from a table, I frightened a cat, which upset a lot of 
plates while jumping out of the window. So I was 
taken and tried at Marylebone Police Court, and sent 
to Feltham Industrial School.. I had not been there 
a month before I planned with another boy to guy 
(run away) and so we did, but was stopped at Brent- 
ford, and took back to the school, where we got 
twelve strokes with the birch. I thought when I first 
went there that I knew a great deal about thieving, but 
I found that there was plenty there that knew more 
than I did, and I palled in with them that knew the 


104 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


most. One day, while talking with a boy, he told 
me that he was going home in a day or so; he said his 
friends were going to claim him out because he was 
more than sixteen years old. When my friends came 
to see me I told them they could claim me out, and 
with a good many fair promises that I would lead a 
new life if they did so, they got me out of the school. 
When I got home I found a great change in my fa- 
ther, who had taken to drink, and he did not take so 
much notice of what I done, as he used to. I went 
on all straight for the first few moons (months) at 
costering. One day there was a fete at Clapton, and 
I was coming home with my kipsy (basket): I had 
just sold all my goods out, and I just stopped to 
pipe (see) what was going on, when a reeler came up 

to me and rapped (said): “Now you had better 

guy, or else I shall give you a drag (three months in 
prison).” 

“All right,” says I. 

“’Tain’t all right,” he rapped back. “I don’t want 
no sauce from you, or else I shall set about (beat) 
you myself.” 

“What for?” says I. “I haven’t done nothing. Do 
you want to get it up for me?” 

Then he began to push me about, so I said that I 
wouldn’t go at all if he put his dukes (hands) on me. 
Then he rammed my nut (head) against the wall and 
nigh shook the very life out of me. This got a scuff 
(crowd) round us, and the people asked him what he 
was knocking me about for, so he says: — 


ENGLISH BOB AND THIEVES' ARGOT 


105 


“This is young — , just home from a schoolin’,” (a 
term in a reformatory). So he did not touch me 
again. So I went home, turned into kip (bed) and 
could not get up for two or three days because he 
had given me such a shaking, him being a great, pow- 
erful man, and me only a little fellow. I still went 
on all straight until things got very dear at the mar- 
ket. I had been down three or four days running and 
could not buy anything to earn a deaner (shilling) 
out of. So one morning I found that I did not have 
more than a caper (5 shillings) for stock-pieces (stock- 
money). 

So I thought to myself: What shall I do? — I said: 
— “I know what I’ll do; I’ll go to London Bridge 
rattler (railway) and take a deaner-ride and go a 
wedge- hunting.” 

So I took a ducat (ticket) for Sutton in Surrey; and 
went a wedge-hunting. I had not been at Sutton 
very long before I piped a slavey (servant) come out 
of a chat (house), so when she had gone a little way 
up the double (turning) I pratted (went) into the 
house. When inside I could not see any wedge lay- 
ing about in the kitchen, so I screwed my nut into 
the wash-house and I piped three or four pair of dai- 
sy-roots (boots). So I claimed (stole) them and 
took off the lid of my kipsy and put them inside, put 
a cloth over them and then put the lid on again, put 
the kipsy on my back as though it was empty and 
guyed to the rattler and took a brief (ticket) to Lon- 


106 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


don Bridge, and took the daisies to a Sheeny (Jew) 
down the Gaff, and done them for thirty blow (shil- 
lings). The next day I took tne rattler to Forest 
Hill, and touched for (succeeded in getting) some 
wedge, and a kipsy full of clobber (clothes). 

You may be sure this gave me a little pluck, so I 
kept on with the old game, only with this difference, 
that I got more pieces (money) for the wedge. I 
got three and a sprat (3s. 6d.) an ounce; but after- 
ward I got 3s. gd., and afterward a blow. I used 
to get a good many pieces about this time, so I used 
to clobber myself up and go to the concert-rooms. 

But although I used to go to these places I never 
used to drink any beer for some time afterward. It 
was while using one of these places that I first met a 
sparring-bloke (pugilist), who taught me how to spar, 
and showed me how to put my dukes up. But after 
a while I gave him best (left him) because he wanted 
to bite my ear (borrow money) too often. It was 
while I was with him that I got in company with 
some of the widest (cleverest) people in London. 
They used to use at (frequent) a pub in Shoreditch. 
The fellows that used to go there were toy-getters 
(watch-stealers), magsmen (confidence trick-men), 
men at the mace (sham loan officers), broadsmen (card 
sharpers), peter-claimers (box-stealers), busters and 
screwsmen (burglars), snide-pitchers (passers of 
counterfeit coin), men at the duff (false jewelry 
dealers), welshers (turf-swindlers) and skittle-sharps. 


ENGLISH BOB AND THIEVES' ARGOT 


107 


Being in with this nice mob you may be sure of what 
I learned. I went out at the game three or four days 
of the week, and used to touch almost every time. 
I went on like this for very near a stretch (year) with- 
out being smugged (apprehended). One night, out 
with the mob, I got canon (drunk), this being the 
very first time for that. After this when I would 
go to the concert-rooms, I used to drink beer. It 
was at a concert-room down in Whitechapel that I 
palled in with a trip and stayed with her until I got 
smugged. One day when I was at Blackheath, I 
got very near canon, and when I went into a place I 
claimed two wedge spoons, and was just going up the 
dancers, a slavey piped the spoons sticking out of 
my sky-rocket (pocket), so I got smugged. While at 
the station they asked me what my monarch (name) 
was. A reeler came to the cell and cross-kidded 
(questioned) me, but I was too wide for him. I was 
tried at Greenwich: they asked the reeler if I was 
known, and he said, “No.” So I was sent to Maid- 
stone Stir (prison) for two moon. When I came out 
the trip I had been living with had sold the home 
and guyed. That didn’t trouble me much. The 
only thing that spurred (annoyed) me was me being 
such a flat as to buy the home. The mob got me up 
a break (collection), and I got between five and six 
foont (sovereigns), so I did not go out at the game 
for about a moon. 

The first day that I did go out I went to Slough 


108 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


and touched for a wedge-kipsy, with 120 ounces of 
wedge in it, for which I got nineteen quid (sover- 
eigns). Then I carried on a nice game. I used to get 
canon every night. I done things that I would have 
been ashamed to think of doing before I took to the 
infernal drink. It was now that I got acquainted 
with the use of twirls (skeleton-keys). 


CHAPTER X 


THE REST OF BOB 

A little time after this I fell (was arrested) again 
at St. Mary Gray for being found at the back of a 
house, and got two moon at Bromley Petty Sessions 
as a rogue and a vagabond; and I was sent to Maid- 
stone, this being the second time within a stretch. 
When I fell this time I had between four and five 
quid found on me, but they gave it back, so I was 
landed (all right) without the mob getting me up a 
lead (a collection). 

I did not fall again for a stretch. This time I got 
two moon for assaulting the reelers while I was canon. 
For this I went to the Steel (Bastile — Coldbath Fields 
Prison), having a new suit of clobber on me and 
about fifty blow in my brigh (pocket). When I came 
out I went at the same old game. 

One day I went to Croydon and touched for a red 
toy (gold watch) and red tackle (gold chain) with a 
large locket. So I took the rattler home at once. 
When I got into Shoreditch, I met one or two of 
the mob who said, “Hullo, been out to-day? Did 
you touch?” So I said, “Usher” (yes). So I took 
them in and we all got canon. When I went to the 

m 


110 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


fence he bested (cheated) me because I was canon, 
and only gave me £ 8 . ios. for the lot. So next day 
I went to him and asked me if he was not going to 
grease my duke (put money in hand). So he said, 
“No.” Then he said, “I will give you another half- 
a-quid;” and said: “Do anybody, but mind they 
don’t do you.” So I thought to myself: “All right, 
my lad; you’ll find me as good as my master,” and 
left him. 

Some time after that affair with the fence, one of 
the mob said to me, “I’ve got a place cut and dried, 
will you come and do it?” So I said, “Yes — what 
tools will be wanting?” And he said, “We’ll want 
some twirls and the stick (crowbar), and bring a Ned- 
die (life-preserver — slung-shot) with you.” And he 
said, “Now don’t stick me up (disappoint me) — 
meet me at six to-night, sure.” At six I was at the 
meet (appointed place), and while waiting for my 
pal I had my daisies cleaned, and I piped the fence 
that bested me going along past with his old woman 
(wife) and his two kids (children) : so I thought of his 
own words, “Do anybody, but mind they don’t do 
you.” I piped the old fence and saw him go up to the 
Surrey Theater; so when my pal came up I told him 
all about it. So we went and screwed (broke into) 
his place, and got thirty-two quid and a toy and 
tackle, which he had bought on the crook (dishon- 
estly). We did not go and do the other place after 
that. About two moon after this time the same old 


THE REST OF BOB 


111 


fence fell for buying two finns (£5 notes), for which 
he got a stretch and a half. 

A little time after this I fell at Isleworth for being 
found in a conservatory next to a parlor, and got re- 
manded to the Tench (House of Detention) for nine 
days, but neither Snuffy (Reeves, the identifier), nor 
Mac (Macintyer) knew me, so I got a drag and was 
sent to the Steel. While I was in there I seen the 
fence who we had done, and he held up his duke at 
me as much as to say, “I would give you something 
if I could,” but I only laughed at him. 

I was out about seven moon, when one night a pal 
of mine was half-canon, and said something to a cop- 
per (policeman) which he did not like, so he hit my 
pal, so I hit him one for it. So we both set about 
him. He pulled out his staff and hit me on the nut 
and cut it open. Then three or four more coppers 
came up and we got smugged, and got a sixer (six 
months) each. So I see the old fence again in Stir. 

On the Boxing day after I came out I got stabbed 
in the chest by a pal of mine who had done a school- 
ing. We was out with one another all the day get- 
ting drunk, so he took a liberty with me, so I just 
landed him one on the conk (nose), so we had a fight, 
and so he put the chive (knife) into me. This made 
me sober, so I asked him what made him such a 
coward. He said, “I meant to kill you; let me go 
kiss my wife and child and then smug me.” But I 
did not do that. 


112 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


After the place got well where I was chived, me and 
another screwed a place at Stoke Newington, and we 
got some squeeze (silk) dresses and two seal-skin 
jackets and some other things. We tied them in a 
bundle and got on a tram. Some reelers got up too, 
and it appeared they knew my pal. So when I 
piped them pipe the bundle, I put my dukes on the 
rails of the tram and dropped off, and guyed down a 
double before you could say Jack Robinson. It was 
a good job I did, or else I should have got lagged 
(sent to penal servitude), and my pal too, because I 
had the James (crowbar) and screws (skeleton-keys) 
on me. My pal got a stretch and a half. 

A day or two after this I met the fence who I had 
done; so he said to me, “We have met at last.” So 
I said, “What of that?” So he said, “What did you 
want to do me for?” So I said, “You must remem- 
ber how you done me, and when I spoke to you about 
it you said, ‘Do anybody, but mind they don’t do 
you.’” That shut him up. 

One day I went to Lewisham and touched for a lot 
of wedge. I tore up my madam (handkerchief) and 
tied the wedge in small packets and put them in my 
pockets. At Bishopgate Street, I left my kipsy at a 
barber’s shop, where I always left it when not in use. 
I was going through Shoreditch, when a reeler from 
Hackney, who knew me well, came up and said: “I 
am going to run the rule over (search) you.” You 
could have knocked me down with a feather, me 


THE REST OF BOB 


113 


knowing what was in my pockets. Then he said, 
“It’s only my joke— are you going to treat me?” So 
I said “Yes,” and began to be very saucy to him, say- 
ing, “What catch would it be if you was to turn me 
over?” So I took him into a pub which had a back 
way out, and called for a pint of stout, and told the 
reeler to wait a minute. He did not know that there 
was a door at the back so I guyed up to Hoxton to the 
mob, and told them all about it. Then I went and 
done the wedge for five-and-twenty quid. One or 
two days after this I met the same reeler at Hack- 
ney, and he said, “What made you guy?” So I said 
that I did not want my pals to see me with him. So 
he said that it was all right. Some of the mob knew 
him and had greased his duke. 

What I am now going to tell took place about four 
or five moons before I fell for my last stretch and a 
half in Enlgand. One day I went to Surbiton. I 
saw a reeler giving me a roasting (watching) me, so 
I began to count my pieces for a jolly (pretense), but 
he still followed me; so at last I rang the bell of a 
chat and waited until the slavey came, and the reeler 
waited until I came out and then said, “ What are you 
a-hawking of?” So I said, “I’m not hawking any- 
thing: I’m buying bottles.” So he said, “I thought 
you was hawking without a license.” And as soon 
as he got round a double I guyed away to Malden 
and touched for two wedge teapots, and took the 
rattler to Waterloo. 

League 8 


114 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


One day I took the rattler from Broad Street to 
Acton. I did not touch there, but worked my way 
to Shepherd’s Bush; but when I got there I found it 
so hot (dangerous), because there had been so many 
tykes (dogs) poisoned, that there was a reeler at al- 
most every double, and bills posted all about. So I 
went to the Uxbridge Road Station, and while I was 
waiting for the rattler, I took a religious tract, and 
on it was written: “What shall it profit a man if 
he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” So 
I thought to myself, “What good has the money I 
have had, and got this way, ever done me?” and so I 
got a-thinking, and instead of getting out at Brondes- 
bury, I rode on to Broad Street and paid the differ- 
ence, and went home, and did not go out for about a 
week. 

The Sunday following, when I went to Uxbridge 
Road, I went down a lane called Mount Pleasant, at 
Clapton; it was about six o’clock. Down at the bottom 
of the lane you could get a fine view of Waltham- 
stow; so while I was leaning against the rail I felt very 
miserable. I was thinking about when I was at Felt- 
ham. I thought I had threw away the only chance I 
had of doing better: and as I stood thinking, the bells 
of St. Matthew’s Church began to play a hymn-tune I 
had heard at Feltham. This brought tears to my 
eyes and this was the first time in my life I ever 
thought of what a wretched fool I was. I was going 
home very downcast when I met some pals who 


THE REST OF BOB 


115 


said, “Why, what’s the matter? You look misera- 
ble !” So I said, “I don’t feel very well.” So they 
said, “Are you coming to have something to drink?” 
So I went in with them and began to drink very hard 
to drown my thoughts. 

Monday morning I felt just the same as I always 
did ; I was ready for the old game again. So I went 
to Hoxton, and some of the mob said to me: “Why, 
where have you been the last week or so? — we 
thought you had fell.” So I told them I had been 
ill. I went next day to Maidenhead, and touched for 
some wedge and a poge (purse) with over five quids 
in it. 

A little after this I went with two pals to the Pal- 
ace at Muswell Hill. The races were on. So when we 
got there, there were some reelers that knew me, 
and my pals said, “You had better get away from us; 
if we touch, you will get your whack (share) just the 
same.” So I went and laid down on the grass. 
While laying there I piped a reeler that I knew. 
He had a nark (a policeman’s spy) with him. So I 
went and looked about for my two pals, and told 
them to look out for F. and his nark. About an 
hour after this they came to me and woke me up, 
and they said, “Come on, we have had a lucky touch 
for a half a century in pap” (£50, in paper notes). 
I thought they were only kidding (fooling me) at first. 
So they said, “Let us guy from here, and you’ll see 
if we are kidding you.” When w r e got into the rat- 


116 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


tier they showed me the pap; yes, there it was, fifty 
quid in double Anns (^io notes). We did them for 
£g, ios., each, to a fence. 

I took the rattler one day to Reigate, and worked 
my way to Red Hill. So I went into a place and 
see some clobber hanging up. So I thought to my- 
self, I will have it and take the rattler home at once; 
it .will pay all expenses. So while I was looking 
about, I piped a little peter (parcel). When I took 
it up it had an address on it, and the address was to 
the vicarage, so I came out and asked a boy if a cler- 
gyman lived there, and he said, “Yes;” but, to make 
sure of it, I went back again. This time I looked at 
the clobber more closely, and I see that it was the 
same as clergymen wear. So I left it where it was. 
I always made it a rule never to rob a clergyman’s 
house if I knew one to live there. I could have 
robbed several in my time, but I would not. So I 
took the rattler to Croydon, and touched for some 
wedge, and come home. 

I used to go to Henley-on-Thames most every year 
when the rowing matches was on; which they used to 
represent Oxford and Cambridge, only it used to be 
boys instead of men. The day the Prince of Wales 
arrived at Portsmouth, when he came home from 
India, me and two pals took the rattler from Water- 
loo at about half-past-six in the morning. When 
we got to Portsmouth we found the place was very 
hot; there was on every corner of the street, bills 


The rest of bob 


117 


stuck up, “Beware of pickpockets, male and fe- 
male,” and on the tram-cars as well. So one of my 
pals said: “There is a reeler over there which knows 
me; we had better split out (separate). Me and the 
other one went by ourselves; but he was very tricky 
(smart) at getting a poge or a toy, but he would not 
touch toys because we was afraid of being turned 
over (searched). We done very well at poges; we 
found after we knocked off we had between sixty and 
seventy quid to cut up (share), but our other pal had 
fell, and was kept at the station until the last rattler 
went to London, and then they sent him home by it. 

One day after this I asked a screwsman if he would 
lend me some screws, because I had a place cut and 
dried. But he said, “If I lend you them, I will want 
to stand in” (have a share); but I said, “I can’t stand 
you at that; I will grease your duke for you, if you 
like;” but he said that would not do; so I said, “We 
will work together, then;” and he said, “Yes.” So we 
went and done the place for fifty-five quid. So I 
worked with him until I fell for that last stretch and 
a half. He was very tricky at making twirls, and 
used to supply them all with tools. Me and the 
screwsman went to Gravesend, and I found a dead 
’un (an uninhabited house), and we both went and 
turned it over, and we got things what fetched us 
forty-three quid. We went one daytoErith; I went 
into a place and when I opened the door, there was 
a great tyke lying in front of the door, so I pulls out 


118 


The league of guilt 


a piece of pudding (liver prepared to poison dogs), 
and threw it to him, but he did not move. So I 
threw a piece more, and it did not take no notice; so 
I went close up to it, and I found it was a dead dog 
that had been stuffed; so I done the place for some 
wedge and three overcoats; one I put on, and the 
other two in my kipsy. 

Next we went to Harpenden Races to see if we 
could find some dead ’uns; and we went on the 
course. While we was there we saw a scuff; it was 
a flat that had been welshed; so my pal said: “Pipe 
his spark, prop” (diamond pin). So my pal said, 
“Front me” (cover me), “and I’ll do him for it.” So 
he pulled out his madam and done him for 

After we left the course we found a dead ’un, and 
got a peter (cash-box) with very near a century of 
quids in it. Then I carried on a nice game — what 
with the trips and the drink, I very near went balmy 
(crazy). It’s no use in me telling you every place 
I done, for they’re all about the same size of story. 

I will now tell you what happened the day before 
I got that last stretch and a half. Me and the screws- 
man went to Charlton. From there we worked our 
way to Blackheath. I went into a place and touched 
for some wedge, which we done for three pounds ten. 
I went home and wrung myself (changed clothes), 
and then went and met some of the mob and got very 
near drunk. Next morning I got up about seven and 
went home to change my clobber, and put on the old 


THE REST OF BOB 


110 


clobber to work with the kipsy. When I got home 
my mother asked me if I was not a-going to stop and 
have some breakfast. So I said, “No, I am in a hurry.” 
I had promised to meet the screwsman, and did 
not want to stick him up. We went to Willesden 
and found a dead ’un, so I came out and asked my 
pal to lend me the James and some twirls, and I went 
in and turned it over. I could not find any wedge. 
I found a poge with nineteen shillings in it. I turned 
everything over but could not find anything worth 
having, so I came out and gave the tools to my pal 
and told him. So he said, “Wasn’t there any clob- 
ber?” So I said, “Yes, a cartload.” So he said, “Go 
and get a kipsy full of it and we will guy home.” So 
I went back, and as I was going down the garden, the 
gardener comes up; he had been put there, it seems, 
to watch the house, so he said, “What do you want 
here?” So I said, “Where do you speak to the serv- 
ants?” So he said, “There is not any one at home; 
they are all out, — what do you want with them?” 
So I said: “Do you know if they have any bottles to 
sell? Because the servants told me to call another 
day.” So he said, “I don’t know — you had better 
call another time.” So I said, “All right and good day 
to him.” I had hardly got outside when he comes 
rushing out like a man balmy, and said to me, “You 
must come back with me.” So I said, “All right. 
What’s the matter?” So when we got to the door 
he said, “How did you open this door?” So I said, 


120 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


“My good fellow, you are mad ! How could I open it?” 
So he said, “It was not open half-an-hour ago, be- 
cause I tried it.” So I said, “What of that? Is that 
any reason that I should of opened it ?” So he said, 
“At any rate you will have to come to the station 
with me.” 

The station was not a stone’s throw from the 
place; so he caught hold of me; so I gave a twist 
around and brought the kipsy in his face and guyed. 
He followed, giving me hot beef (calling “Stop thief”). 
My pal came along and I said to him, “Make this 
man leave me alone; he is knocking me about,” and 
I put a half James (half-sovereign) in his hand, and 
says, “Guy.” As I was running round the corner 
there was a reeler talking to a postman, and I rushed 
past him, and in a little while the gardener came up 
and told him all about it. So he set after me, and 
the postman too, all giving me hot beef. This set 
other people after me and I got run out. So I got 
run in, too, and was tried at Marylebone, and re- 
mained for a week, and then fullied (fully committed 
for trial) and on it got that stretch and a half. Ma- 
rylebone is the last English court I got my schooling 
from. 


CHAPTER XI 


A DEAL IN DIAMONDS AT NAPLES 

A gentleman of very aristocratic bearing, seemingly 
about fifty-five years of age, with beautiful, full, gray 
beard and hair, dark, piercing eyes, and an aquiline 
nose, was stopping at the “Hotel de Geneve” of 
Naples, Italy. 

The distinguished individual was accompanied by 
an elegant-looking lady, certainly not older than 
twenty-four, dressed in best style, with laces and vel- 
vets, and one of those daughters of Eve, who, by a 
single sparkling glance of their black eyes, put so 
many hearts on fire. She might really be called 
beautiful, and was the fortunate possessor of a pair 
of hands as fine as though chiseled from marble, and 
her foot, which she gracefully contrived to exhibit, 
might have served for a model of the pedal of Venus. 

The pair gave themselves out to be English, but 
the attendants of the hotel, although native Italians, 
readily observed that they spoke the language of 
Italy, although very fluently, more with the accent 
of Germany than England. 

The young lady seemed very fond of displaying 
her lingual accomplishments, for every time she passed 
121 


122 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


the office she spoke French for a while with the clerk, 
who was a Frenchman, and who declared that never 
had he heard his native language fall so faultlessly 
from English tongue as from that of her ladyship. 

Her musical talents were now and then displayed 
in the parlor of the hotel by artistically rendering the 
sonatas of Beethoven or Mozart. In short, the lady, 
as well as the gentleman, was evidently highly edu- 
cated; and their deportment was such that it could 
not but secure to them the fullest confidence; and in 
fact they were the objects of much attention from 
the attaches of the hotel, which they received with 
many marks of appreciative recognition. On coming, 
with other luggage, they had brought four large boxes, 
containing two complete sets of drawers, like those 
used by officers in camp. 

They chose a parlor and two bedrooms, one of the 
latter opening into the parlor. They ordered their 
trunks to be at once brought to their rooms, and as 
soon as they were settled these drawers were un- 
packed, and one set was placed against the door in 
the parlor and the other on the other side of the door 
in the gentleman’s bedroom, the door in question 
being, like most of those in continental hotels, very 
thin. 

For some time things went on in a most satisfactory 
manner. The gentleman was not extravagant, but 
liberal, and was particular to call for his bill and make 
full settlement the moment it fell due. His daughter 


A DEAL IN DIAMONDS AT NAPLES 


123 


amused the guests of the hotel with her really masterly 
playing on the piano, and her witty conversation, and 
soon the “milord” and the “signorina” had captured 
every inmate of the hotel; even Signor Isotta, the 
proprietor, now and then called upon them and 
passed a delightful hour in intellectual converse. 

Before they had been many days in town they paid 
a visit to Signor Amalfi, the principal jeweler, and 
“milord” and his daughter made some small pur- 
chases, the father paying cash at the prices first asked 
and making such display as to convince that he was 
well supplied with good bank-notes. 

The jeweler was, of course, anxious to cultivate 
the trade of such customers, and exhibited all kinds 
of beautiful conceits to tempt them further; but 
though the young lady most earnestly desired and 
ardently coaxed “milord,” his purchases at first con- 
tinued to be very moderate, though the payment was 
always liberal and on delivery. 

At the end of a month the gentleman paid a visit 
alone, and, after making another purchase, and hav- 
ing looked around for some considerable time, he re- 
marked, confidentially, to the jeweler, that his daugh- 
ter was about to be married, that he thought of send- 
ing to Paris for a set of diamonds, and he requested 
the jeweler to give him the address of the most relia- 
ble dealer in that line in the French capital, begging 
him, also, to keep the matter quiet, as he wished to 
pleasantly surprise his daughter with the fine gift. 


124 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


The jeweler could not allow such a chance to slip 
through his fingers, and told “milord” that he would 
gladly furnish him the address of all the noted firms 
of Paris, but that “milord” might save the trouble 
and delay, as he had a set of diamonds in his posses- 
sion, the most beautiful in Europe, the property of a 
princess, and he was sure that all Paris could not 
produce a set equal to them. 

He placed them before his rich customer, with the 
remark that only a “milord Inglese” could buy them, 
and begged him just to inspect them. The eyes of the 
Englishman were dazzled by the splendor displayed, 
but, preserving his sang froid , he carefully examined 
the necklace; and fully worthy of exihibtion and ad- 
miration was it. 

A row of seventeen glorious diamonds almost as 
large as filberts, were destined to encircle, not too 
tightly, a first time, the neck of the wearer. Looser, 
gracefully fastened thrice to these, a well wreathed 
festoon and pendants swung lower and enwreathed it 
a second time. Loosest of all, softly flowing round 
from behind, in priceless catenary, rushed down two 
broad threefold rows, and seemed to knot themselves 
on the bosom; all these different rows were held to- 
gether by tassels which alone would make the fort- 
unes of some men. It was a second “queen’s neck- 
lace,” and it seemed as if that historically celebrated, 
or rather infamous, gem, had been closely imitated. 

The jeweler had a right to be proud of this mag- 


A DEAL IN DIAMONDS AT NAPLES 


125 


nificent possession; he stated its value at 450,000 
francs. 

The inspection was made, but although the jeweler 
used his most persuasive arguments, no decision 
was come at that day. On the morrow “milord” 
dropped in again, looked at some small trinkets, 
and, never mentioning the necklace, he was about 
leaving the store when the jeweler politely introduced 
the subject. 

He assured “milord” that the necklace had never 
before been exhibited to any one since it came into 
his possession, he had never had a customer likely to 
appreciate so rare a piece of work and value until 
“milord” appeared, and if the Englishman did not 
buy it, he, the jeweler, would certainly have to re- 
turn it to the princess who had placed it in his hands 
for sale. 

“Milord” remarked that he had hardly given a sec- 
ond thought to the matter, as the price was rather 
high, even when given to purchase what would be- 
come a family heirloom; but “once or twice in a 
man’s life he is somewhat justified in being rather 
extravagant,” he remarked, “and the marriage gift of 
an only daughter, having a fortune of her own and 1 
about to mate with one of England’s wealthiest lords, 
could excuse extraordinary lavishment.” 

In all of which, of course, the jeweler fully agreed 
and again producing the splendid necklace he grew so 
eloquent in extolling the beauty of each stone, the 


126 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


magnificence of the whole and the advantage of the 
investment of that sum of money, large as it was, in 
purchase of such a gem, always sure to command a 
price equal to that now asked for it, and under most 
circumstances a large advance — he presented his ar- 
guments so effectively and handled the treasure with 
such dazzling of his customer’s eyes as to finally pro- 
duce conviction and conclusion. “Milord,” with a sigh, 
as though half-regetting the foolish fondness that 
prompted such reckless outlay, said he’d “take it.” 

No happier man in all Naples that hour than Sig- 
nor Amalfi, the jeweler. 

He thought at last to inquire if it would be best to 
send the necklace to “milord’s” hotel that evening, 
and he received the perfectly straightforward answer 
of a careful, honest, business-like man. 

“My dear sir, I do not carry such sums of money 
with me, as a general thing. I must draw upon my 
banker in London. I will give you 500 francs to 
bind the bargain, and the jewels you can deliver and 
receive your cash, not a check, in the course of next 
week, then the business will be finally closed. I have 
only one way of dealing in all such matters.” 

The deposit was made, the jeweler delighted and 
satisfied beyond doubt, and he bent himself almost 
double with bows as he conducted the wealthy “mi- 
lord” to that gentleman’s modest carriage. 

Eight days had passed before the jeweler was re- 
quested to call at the hotel with the diamond neck- 


A DEAL IN DIAMONDS AT NAPLES 


127 


lace and to receive full payment therefor. The hour 
of ii o’clock a. m. was designated for his appear- 
ance and he arrived to the moment, found his custo- 
mer arrayed in a dressing-gown, sitting alone at a 
set of drawers (one of those mentioned) a front lid 
of which turned down so as to form a writing-table. 

The jeweler advanced respectfully and on this table 
or lid laid the open casket in which glistened the pre- 
cious necklace. “Milord” examined the jewels as if 
to verify them, his eyes sparkled with delight, but he 
maintained a most frigid air, and calmly remarked 
that he did not wish his daughter to know anything 
about the matter at present. Then he produced a 
great package of beautiful, new, crisp bank-notes, 
taking them from a drawer. 

At that moment a door from one of the other rooms 
suddenly opened, and, to the great annoyance of 
“milord,” in bounded the beautiful daughter, as the 
jeweler afterward testified, “like a golden fawn.” 

Nothing was more natural than that her father 
should wink at the jeweler, hastily close the lid of 
the casket, slip it into the drawer, and closing it, 
shut up the lid of the whole. The key and the notes 
he quickly put in his pocket, and rather testily he 
requested the young lady to favor them with her ab- 
sence, as he had some particular business to transact 
with Signor Amalfi, and they wished to be alone. 

But the fair damsel seemed to be a spoilt child, 
determined to have her own way. She said that she 


]28 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


had come to tell “papa” that the tailor was waiting 
for him in the next room and he must go at once. 
“And,” she added, with a most captivating smile, “I 
am sure that Signor Amalfi will be just as well pleased 
with my company for a little while as with yours; 
besides, I have a locket the spring of which is faulty, 
and signor will certainly see if he cannot correct it 
for me.” 

The jeweler was not proof against such a battery 
of feminine charms; he saw his goods safely locked 
up in that chest of drawers, under his very eyes, al- 
most within his grasp — as secure as though they real- 
ly were in his hands. So he begged “milord” not to 
be troubled on his account, he would gladly wait, 
etc., and “milord,” after making many excuses and 
playfully threatening his wayward child with his fin- 
ger, left the room, and the signor enjoyed a full half- 
hour’s delicious flirtation with the fascinating beauty. 
The artful siren captivated him so entirely, she was so 
winning in her ways, that the jeweler became even in 
that short time desperately in love with her, and the 
minutes flew by without notice. It was to him like 
a lovely dream and he would have lingered willingly 
in the intoxicating bliss had the young lady not re- 
marked that the talior seemed even more tiresome 
than usual with his ceaseless talk, that morning; he 
always detained and bored her father unmercifully, 
and she would have to go and rescue the old gentle- 
man from the clutches of the knight of trousers and 
tongue. 


A DEAL IN DIAMONDS AT NAPLES 129 

She left the room, thanking the jeweler for his 
kindness in fixing her locket, and giving him, as she 
passed out, a smile and glance that thrilled his heart. 
He looked after her as though he were under a 
charm, and sat gazing at the door through which she 
had disappeared, lost in meditation, his whole being 
engrossed with thoughts of the sweet young creature 
who had been so gracious to him. 

He sat there for a long time; for so long a time 
that at last every day, worldly, business matters began 
to take the place of waking dreams, and he realized 
that more than an hour had passed since he was left 
alone. He spent a certain amount more of leisure 
in wondering how much longer his customer or the 
young lady would be absent; then he went and tried 
the lid of the chest of drawers. 

The lid was all right, it was locked, and inside was 
deposited the casket containing the precious necklace 
of diamonds. Had he not seen them safely deposit- 
ed there? 

So he sat down again, and as befitted him, a ro- 
mantic son of Italy, he fell once more into dreams, 
and while he was devoured with envy of the bride- 
groom who would possess such a peerless beauty he 
allowed his imagination to run riot, and pictured to 
himself the lovely maiden in her bridal dress, adorned 
with those diamonds, whose luster would be enhanced 
by the reflection of the rosy hue upon her blushing 

cheeks. 

league fl 


130 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


He looked at his watch and found that this last 
interval of “mooning” had continued for nearly three 
hours. He began to think that he had been forgotten 
— or something. 

So he rang the bell and requested the waiter who 
answered the summons, to remind “milord” that Sig- 
nor Amalfi was still waiting his pleasure, but to be 
very polite in making the communication. 

The waiter replied that “milord” had gone out, 
with a gentleman who called upon him, several hours 
before. 

“Why,” said tne jeweler, “that is very strange . Mi- 
lord knew I was here and waiting for him. Pray go 
to the signorina and ask her whether she knows when 
her father expects to return.” 

The waiter went away but was soon back with the 
information that the young lady was also absent from 
the hotel, but he said he would go to the office and 
make further inquiry. 

The jeweler became feverish with anxiety, but soon 
the landlord appeared and told him that “milord” had 
left word at the office, several hours ago, before he 
went out with the gentleman who called in such haste 
upon him, that if the jeweler lost patience and in- 
quired for him, they (at the office) should state that 
he would return very soon, that some important busi- 
ness, to be instantly attended to, had called him out 
with his friend, and he begged the jeweler to excuse 
him. to wait for him if he could, or to call again, It 


A DEAL IN DIAMONDS AT NAPLES 


131 


was about half-an-hour later, the servant said, that 
he had seen the signorina leave the hotel, apparently 
going out for a stroll. 

The jeweler ventured to express some of the anx- 
iety he could not avoid entertaining, but the landlord 
laughed him to scorn, with his fears; assuring him 
that he, in his large experience, had never met with a 
more perfect gentleman, a man whose whole presence 
was a guarantee of reliability, and he swore he wished 
“milord” owed him 500,000 francs, he would cer- 
tainly consider them safe as if he had them in bank. 
Besides, were not the jeweler’s gems there in the 
drawer, deposited there under his own eyes? and even 
if milord did not return, were they not there to be 
recovered, and would not Signor Amalfi have the 500 
francs already in his hands as a deposit, and his 
necklace also? 

The jeweler’s fears began to dissolve, and soon he 
felt heartily ashamed of himself He urgently re- 
quested the landlord not to mention to milord that 
any inquiry or conversation regarding him had taken 
place, he bribed the waiter to silence on the same 
subject and ordered most liberal refreshments to be 
brought to him, as he intended to wait the return of 
his customer. 


CHAPTER XII 


LORD SHEFFIELD’S WAY OF BUSINESS 

The reassured and refreshed jeweler waited — and 
waited. 

Arrived and passed were the hours of the table d ’ 
hole, but neither milord nor the signorina made their 
appearance. Again doubts and fears assailed the 
Signor Amalfi, again he began to have a presentiment 
that something was wrong, and again he consulted 
with the landlord, and once more he received earnest 
assurance of the landlord’s faith in the honor of mi- 
lord, whose only fault, if such it might be called, was 
forgetfulness. 

So he kept his sad and weary watch through all the 
long hours of the night, and the landlord found him 
still there in the early morning, and the worthy pro- 
prietor of the hotel then also began to consider the 
case as somewhat suspicious, but he declared that he 
could not understand, if his guests intended any 
dishonesty, why they should leave the diamonds theie 
locked up and all their luggage and valuables still in 
the rooms. 

By this time the jeweler was almost frantic. He 
made a dash at the chest of drawers and with the 

m 


LORD SHEFFIELD'S IV AY OF BUSINESS 133 

poker soon opened the lid behind which his diamonds 
had been placed; next he forced the front of the 
drawer in which he had seen the casket deposited, 
and thrust his hand into the compartment, to find 
nothing but a square, open void, leading to a chest 
of drawers standing in the other room. 

The contrivance was cunningly devised, yet per- 
fectly simple. The reader will remember that one 
set of the drawers was placed on either side of the 
door, one in the parlor, and the other in the gentle- 
man’s bedroom; the panel of the door separating the 
two sets had been carefully cut out, and as the draw- 
ers had no back to them, milord was enabled to 
open any of the drawers in either room and take 
from the corresponding one in the other apartment, 
without being obliged to unlock that drawer or re- 
move it at all. 

All present were at once convinced that they had 
had to deal with a cunningly contrived swindle, and 
they inaugurated a search of the other drawers and 
rooms, with the assistance of the police, who had 
been at once called in. 

In the drawers some letters were found, all directed 
to Lord Sheffield, and evidently all written by the 
same hand; they did not lead to any disclosure as to 
the identity of the swindling milord. Not a single 
piece of jewelry was to be found in the rooms. 

The trunks in the room of the young woman were 
well provided with underwear and a few dresses, but 


134 


THE LEAGUE OP GUILT 


the most costly and elegant costumes, such as she 
had been wont to exhibit upon her beautiful form 
about the hotel, these, with her magnificent laces and 
costly furs, had disappeared. 

In the bedroom of milord the dressing-gown was 
found, lying upon a chair, but the keys of the casket 
and the drawers, and the package of crisp, new bank- 
notes, he had not forgotten to remove from the 
pockets of the wrap and to take with him. 

Signor Amalfi, the poor jeweler, was in despair. 
He declared that he would be ruined; others of his 
craft helped him and together they made up a large 
amount and offered it as reward for the detection of 
the thieves and recovery of the jewels. 

It was through the circulars sent broadcast to all 
detective officers of different countries that I first 
heard of this robbery, and in a few hours came a let- 
ter from Sir Lionel, informing me that, as usual, in- 
formation of the deviltry had been sent to him and 
his family, thus rendering us certain that the whole 
villainy was in some way inspired by the morally in- 
sane Lady Barchester. 

It thus became at once my duty to move actively 
in the case and quickly as transportation could carry 
me I was in Naples, had possessed myself of all the 
facts already stated and made such further personal 
investigations as I considered necessary to enable me 
to lay my plans for action. 

It was not at all doubtful, or we may say that it 


LORD SHEFFIELD'S WAY OF BUSINESS 135 

was very evident, that Lord Sheffield was a bogus 
lord ; that he was neither a member of the English 
nobility, nor, so far as appearances went, an En- 
glishman at all, was almost equally certain. The let- 
ters found in the drawers established the fact that he 
had English speaking and writing accomplices. 

My first step was taken to the office of the steamer, 
which had left the preceding day, at 4 p. m., for 
Marseilles; and really I found on the register the 
name of Lord Sheffield and lady. The clerk told me 
that at about noon an English gentleman had called, 
had engaged two staterooms, one for a lady and one 
for himself, had paid for them both, and had told him 
he would send his baggage soon afterward, that the 
trunks were marked with their names, and that he 
had requested' that they might be put in the state- 
rooms secured by the respective owners. 

This had been done, and the clerk did not doubt 
but that milord and his lady were on their way to 
Marseilles. 

I was very well satisfied with the success of my 
step and sent a dispatch to the police at Marseilles 
on the arrival there of the steamer; but judge of my 
disappointment and rage when, thirty-six hours after- 
ward, a telegraphic message in reply was handed to 
me, saying that the trunks had arrived, but not mi- 
lord and the lady; they had evidently never embarked, 
and the police, after waiting until another steamer, 
due in a few hours, arrived, and seeing that the per- 


136 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


sons looked for were upon it neither, had proceeded 
to search the trunks, and found that they, while pro- 
vided on the outside with nickel-plates engraved with 
the name “Lord Sheffield,” had for their contents a 
miscellaneous collection of old rags, newspapers, 
empty bottles and stones. 

The papers did not afford the least information, 
they were all Italian journals of old dates. 

No time was to be lost, as the swindler and his 
accomplice had now already some forty hours the 
start of me. However, I went once more to the 
steamer office and inquired if they knew the man who 
had taken the trunks to the vessel. They did; he 
was an expressman who constantly carried baggage 
to the steamer. 

I found the man, and he declared that a gentle- 
man, the description of whom exactly answered to 
that of “milord,” had ordered him to get his trunks 
from a house, No. 32 Corso; to be very careful with 
them, and to bring them to the steamer for Marseilles; 
he had done so, and “milord” had liberally paid him 
for his trouble. 

Inquiring at No. 32 Corso, I was told by the land- 
lady that milord had rented a small front room in 
the house, as he was writing a book and desired to 
have quietude. He paid a month’s rent in advance, 
had two trunks — on each was a plate engraved with 
the name of Lord Sheffield — brd'ught to the house, 
and, in the lady’s opinion, to judge from what she 


LORD SHEFFIELD'S IVAY OF BUSINESS 13 ? 

had seen of him, he was a quiet, perfect gentleman 
who only passed an hour or two of each day in his 
room. 

The day before, he had acquainted the landlady, at 
about noon, that urgent business obliged him to leave 
immediately for Marseilles, had settled liberally for 
some trifling services done, and soon afterward the 
expressman came for the trunks which the gentleman 
delivered to him, and about half an hour later a young 
lady of remarkable beauty, in a carriage, called for 
the gentleman; he stepped into the vehicle, bade the 
landlady a most polite good- bye, and that was the 
last she ever saw of him. 

It was plain to me that I had no common rascal 
to deal with. The whole management of the affair, 
and this move with the trunks especially, proved that 
the fellow was original in his plans and most expert 
in the execution of them. I must confess that he 
easily won from me the first tricks in the game; it 
was for me to see that I did not come out loser at 
the end. 

Hastening to the railway depot I made inquiry of 
the officials of the line, and from the ticket agent 
learned that he had sold two tickets for Genoa to a 
gentleman answering the description I gave, but that 
this ticket purchaser was a German, not an English- 
man. 

I felt confident that I was on track of the right man 
and at once started for Alexandria, whither my game 


138 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


had gone. The conductor of the train told me that 
he had noticed such parties as I described on his cars, 
and that he was sure they had left the train at Alex- 
andria, as he remembered the sensation created at 
the station there, by the young lady, as she walked 
through the throng, on account of her beauty and 
queenly bearing. This filled me with the greatest 
hope of success, but, accustomed to disappointments 
of all kinds, I was not too sanguine. 

Arrived at Alexandria, I resolved to alight here, 
and to see whether my pair could be found. I looked 
over the registers of all the hotels, but in vain; Lord 
Sheffield’s name was not inscribed upon their pages. 
But on inquiring of the clerk of a first-class hotel he 
told me that a gentleman and lady, much such as I 
described, had stopped at that house over night, but 
they spoke nothing but French and had left by the 
first train in the morning, whither, he said, he did 
not know. He further informed me that these par- 
ties had two trunks with them, marked on the end 
with the name “Dumont.” 

Of course I had little or no sufficient guarantee 
that they were the parties I was looking for, but as 
the description so nearly coincided with the originals, 
making due allowance for such slight disguising 
changes as they might attempt to conceal their indi- 
viduality, I resolved to follow their tracks, and con- 
tinued my inquiries at every depot in town. 

At last I discovered that my man and lady had 


LORD SHEFFIELD'S W AY OF BUSINESS 


130 


departed for Torina, and to that place I at once 
proceeded, only to learn that the couple had gone on 
that same day to Martigny, Switzerland. I had to 
wait until morning before I could take the train in 
pursuit, and employed my time in thoroughly study- 
ing up the different directions my birds could now 
take, and as I saw that the roads diverged so much 
that I probably should want help, I sent a dispatch to 
Naples, to Miss Guoni, as she was known there, to 
join me at Cologne. 

The woman was the wife of the English thief Bob. 
She had been in my employ, she and her husband, 
ever since I captured the counterfeiter’s gang, and 
more than one very clever piece of detective work 
she had done for me. When I started on the trail 
of the crime I was now following up, I had instructed 
Bob and herself to obey my instructions, for I knew 
not just when I might want one or both of them. 
They had followed me to Naples, after I left, accord- 
ing to orders, and were waiting there at that time. It 
is often easier for a woman to trace a criminal, with- 
out exciting his suspicions, than for a man, against 
whom offenders are always on guard. 

Having telegraphed to “Miss Guoni” to report to me 
at Cologne, I took, in the morning, the train for 
Bern, and there I learned that a lady and gentleman 
who gave, or answered to, or were called by the name 
of Dumont, had stopped at the “Berner Wirthshaus” 
for a couple of hours; the lady perfectly answered to 


THE LEAGUE OE GUILT 


140 

the description of my beauty; the gentleman, to all 
outward appearance, was another individual alto- 
gether. He did not have a long, gray beard, but was 
cleanly shaved except that he wore a heavy, black 
mustache; but his eyes, nose, and general make-up 
tallied so well with my original that I concluded he 
might be the same party after all with beard shaved 
off and mustache colored, with intent to deceive. 

I was informed that he had taken the train for Nar- 
burg, so there I proceeded at once but could find no 
trace of my parties; they had evidently kept directly 
on with their journey. 

So I went on to Basle, and here I found that Mr. 
Dumont and his wife had engaged, on the preceding 
evening, one room in which they had passed the night, 
and to all appearances they intended to stop for a 
few days. 

In the morning, however, the gentleman had asked 
for the “Berner Zeitung.” He carelessly read it 
over, leaning against the counter of the office, when 
all at once his eye fell upon some certain article 
which seemed to attract his closest attention. He 
read it over with greatest care, inquired when the 
next train would leave for Cologne, took the paper 
along and went at once to his room, requesting the 
clerk to send up the waiter with his bill, as he in- 
tended to leave with the next train. I at once pro- 
cured a copy of the paper and quickly found and 
read the following; 


LORD SHEFFIELD- S WAY OF BUSINESS 


141 


“A swindle was perpetrated a short time since, in 
Naples, the cunning device of which outstrips all 
that we have heard of before. A man giving himself 
out for an English nobleman, contrived to obtain 
possession of a valuable necklace, belonging to one 
of the principal jewelers in Naples. As soon as he had 
the valuable jewels in hand he disappeared and after- 
ward left the city for parts unknown, as he put the 
officers on the wrong track by a very shrewd device. 
He seems to be a remarkably smart swindler, but we 
learn that a certain noted detective is following him 
and we hope soon to record his arrest and that justice 
has overtaken him.” 

Then I knew what had frightened Mr. Dumont, 
and, cursing the indiscretion of the newspapers, 
that often in their over-zeal to furnish advanced 
news, make the work of the detective, if not worth- 
less, at least much increased and complicated, I 
started at once for Cologne. 

Now, from Basle to Cologne is a very long stretch, 
and many great stations are found between them. If 
I had had a great number of assistants with me, I 
might have left one at every station to “do” the place, 
and proceeded myself to Cologne. As it was now I 
resolved to do myself what my assistants might or 
could have done, and to trust to luck for the rest. 

From B«sle, three different trains besides the one 
coming from the south, leave at different times in 
diverse directions. One line goes east, over Hoheru 


142 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


stein to Schaffhausen, another northwest, over Muhl- 
hausen to Epinal, and leads into France, and the 
northern one goes almost straight north, over Krotz- 
ingen to Freiburg, and as this is the direct line to 
Cologne, I resolved to follow this road, and to send 
dispatches for the arrest of the thief in other direc- 
tions. 

It would be of very little interest to my readers to 
tell them of all my varying beams of hope and subse- 
quent disappointments. 

Let it suffice to say that at some stations my man 
had been seen, as I thought, and at others I was left 
entirely in the dark. 

The young lady who accompanied “milord,” and 
everywhere attracted attention by her beauty, was 
my safest guide, as her male companion seemed to 
alter his appearance, not only as to his beard and 
manner but also in regard to his personal attire. 

At Carlsruhe, in Baden, I was told that the gen- 
tleman and the young woman had taken supper; 
but if it had not been for the exactness of her identi- 
fication I would scarcely have known that I was still 
on track of the man. Mr. Dumont was no longer 
in existence; replacing him came Mr. Braun, a Hun- 
garian, the real type of his nation, in high riding- 
boots; and a Hungarian cap, bordered with fur, was 
the chapeau of the dandy. 

At Heidelberg the road diverged again, and I was 
rather convinced, that at Basle, reading the news- 


LORD SHEFFIELD'S W AY OF BUSINESS 


143 


paper article, “milord” had been frightened, and, in 
his fright, betrayed, unconsciously, his line of travel. 

So I went on and in the evening arrived at Darm- 
stadt, where I resolved to pass the night and to 
gather as much new information as possible. I went 
at once to the “Darmstadter Hof,” the best hotel in the 
city, and as I had plenty of time I invited the clerk 
of the house to join me in a bottle of wine, and over 
it I told him the whole story, requesting him to try 
his best to recall if he had not seen some persons in 
a measure answering the general description of those 
I gave him. 

After a short pause the clerk exclaimed: 

“Why, certainly, they have been here! And it must 
have been the same who left about an hour before 
you arrived.” 

Now, from Darmstadt, three roads leave in differ- 
ent directions: one goes east, to Aschaffenburg; an- 
other west, to Mayence, and another north to Frank- 
fort. The trains depart at different hours, and sever- 
al times a day. From Darmstadt there are two di- 
rect lines to Cologne, one over Frankfort, Giessen, 
Blantenburg, to Cologne; and the other over Mainz, 
Coblentz, Bonn, to Dusseldorf. 

I was at a loss to decide which road to take, but 
carefully thinking the matter over and considering 
what time they must have left, I resolved to take 
the former line, which at all events was the shortest, 
and in case I was mistaken I would have gained a 


144 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


little time, and if their destination was Cologne, I 
would probably find them there, or, at least, traces 
of them. 

In the evening I arrived at Cologne and at once 
proceeded to the “Hotel de Bonn,” on the Square of 
the Augustines, which is only fifteen minutes distance 
from the depot on the railway line to Bonn. 

I judged that if they had come by this line — and it 
was very probable they had, for I had found no traces 
of them on the road — they would be most likely to 
stop at this hotel, as it was one of the best, and mi- 
lord was not in the habit of bestowing his patronage 
upon second-class houses. The register here bore 
neither the names of “Lord Sheffield,” nor “M. Du- 
mont,” nor “Mr. Braun,” and no people in the hotel 
answered to the description of the parties I sought 
for, so far as the clerk knew. 

I next wandered out and searched the registers and 
made cautious inquiries at all the other hotels, and 
had visited the Hotel Royal, the Hotel de Hollande, 
and many others of different grades, and all in vain. 

Much discouraged and very tired I moved listlessly 
on, when the music of a military band attracted me, 
and, wandering in the direction from which the sound 
proceded, I arrived at the Hotel Bellevue, the gar- 
dens of which allow a charming view over the city, 
and over the animated throng that moves ceaselessly 
pn the bridge across the Rhine. 


CHAPTER XIII 


“milord” loses the game at last 

During the summer, every pleasant evening, the 
fine music and pleasant surroundings of these gardens 
attract great numbers. 

Amidst the crowds there I wandered, looking care- 
fully, but I could see no one or two persons who bore 
the least resemblance to the pair I most desired to 
meet. Soon the chill of the night air affected me, 
in my worn state of body and mind, and I resolved 
to seek rest where I was. I entered the office of the 
hotel and inscribed my name upon the register, and 
lo! on the same page, near the top of it, as I looked 
carelessly along, I read the name “Mr. Braun and 
lady.” 

It was not long before I was intimate with the clerk 
and learned all that he could tell me. 

Mr. Braun and lady had arrived that very day, 
and occupied a front room on the first floor; the clerk 
had, just before I spoke, noticed them returning to 
the house from the garden, and they were, he said, 
then probably sitting in the parlor. 

I went at once to the room assigned me, arranged 
my dress as carefully as circumstances would permit, 


146 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


and then, in the most natural, careless manner 
possible, I sauntered into the parlor. 

A young woman, who answered in every particular 
to the description I had been given of the beauty of 
Naples, was sitting at a window. She certainly was 
a magnificently beautiful creature. But the man 
who was talking with her did not meet the measure 
of my party in the least; his eyes were blue, his nose 
the very opposite of aquiline, and his mustache, in- 
stead of being jet black in color, was of the very 
lightest blonde. 

Certain it was that either the description furnished 
me was false, or assuredly this was not the man I 
was looking for. The lady soon moved to the open 
piano and commenced playing. She was skillful and 
gave the “Wedding March” of Mendelssohn in a perfect 
manner, the notes thereof happening to be on the in- 
strument. As she turned the last page of the music 
it fluttered to the floor, and I, anxious for an excuse 
to converse, sprang forward, raised and presented it. 
The attention she acknowledged with a gracious bow 
and smile, asking, at the same time, in evident desire 
to say something civil, if I were not a performer up- 
on the piano. 

I admitted my delight in music and acknowledged 
my ignorance of how to produce it, and was hurrying 
on to further speech when Mr. Braun came forward, 
and I, seeing no other alternative, introduced myself 
as Mr. Simpson, from New York. He handed me his 
card and I read the following; 


MILORD LOSES THE GAME AT LAST 


147 


Le Comte de Braun, 

Officier d' A rtilleric, 

Arm6e Autrichienne. 

He introduced the handsome woman as his wife 
and vowed that he was delighted to meet an Ameri- 
can. He certainly made good use of the English lan- 
guage and we had been chatting quite a while to- 
gether when the sweet strains of “Beautiful Blue 
Danube” of Strauss, reached our ears. In reply to 
my inquiry as to where the music came from the lady 
told me that the guests were dancing in the large 
banqueting hall of the hotel. 

I at once solicited the favor of her hand in the 
dance and meeting with ready acquiescence I led her 
to the hall and we were soon gliding over the well 
polished floor, amidst laces and perfumes, lights and 
loves, and were only reminded of the lateness of the 
hour by a hint from Mr. Braun. 

At last I went to my bed with the full conviction 
that from Basle I had followed the wrong track, my 
trouble had been taken for nothing, the “milord” had 
now had all possible time to make his escape, and, 
if he had not been very awkward, there was little 
chance for my catching him except by one of those 


14 $ 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


unexpected chances that occasionally occur. How- 
ever, I sent dispatches to all the seaports, hoping in 
that way to prevent his leaving the continent. 

What to do now? Return to Basle and from there 
follow up the trail again which I had lost? I did not 
think it worth while, as my game had had plenty of 
time to leave that place and take measures to efface 
his tracks. 

I started out and visited the different hotels and at 
last succeeded in finding Miss Guoni, the female de- 
tective whom I had ordered to join me at Cologne. 
I told her how I had been misled, and we together 
came to the agreement that she should go to Calais, 
in France, while I would proceed to Cuxhaven, in 
that way being sure that no escape to England or 
America was probable, unless it had been already 
effected without our knowledge. 

I must confess that I now depended more upon ac- 
cident than actual search. Scarcely had I been two 
days in Cuxhaven when I almost reached the certain- 
ty of conclusion that “milord” had escaped to 
Heligoland, then, and till 1890, a British island in the 
North Sea, west of Holstein, and I received a dispatch 
in cipher, from Miss Guoni, that she felt confident 
that she was on the track of the lady, as she had found 
diamonds in Paris, sold to Lafitte, which exactly cor- 
responded with those obtained from Amalfi at Naples, 
and that they had been sold by a lady answering the 
description, who had embarked in Calais for Dover. 


MILORD LOSES THE GAME AT LAST 


140 


I at once wired Miss Guoni not to pursue the lady, 
as she would probably remain in England, thinking 
herself safe, but that Miss G. should find out as 
much about the diamonds as she possibly could. This 
done, I took the steamer for the island of Heligoland. 

Before, however, I describe my experiences there, 
it is necessary to say that the island of Heligoland, 
one of the fashionable watering-places of the day, is 
really nothing else but a large red rock, raising its 
head above the surface of the water, almost bare, 
save a few trees around the hotel, the “Old Post,” 
and selected as a summer resort on account of the 
cool, invigorating sea-breeze, and the free, unconven- 
tional life which it affords. 

Of course the bathing-guests, who have nothing 
else to do, and no other subject for conversation, 
consider the arrival of a steamer from Cuxhaven as 
a great event, and as soon as the cannon-shot an- 
nounces such an arrival, ladies and gentlemen start 
for the shore to exchange their opinions as to the 
new fellow-guests. For that reason, the passage 
from the point of debarkation to the “Old Post” is 
characteristically called the “gossip’s alley.” I men- 
tion this fact because the reader will see that the 
gossip’s alley, in this case, did me good service. 

Arriving at the “Old Post” I wished to create no 
suspicion, and therefore, while I registered my name 
as Mr. Werner, last from Berlin, I carelessly looked 
over the list and saw neither Lord Sheffield’s name, 


150 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


nor that of “Mr. Dumont,” nor “Mr. Braun.” How- 
ever, this did not discourage me, as my man might, 
and probably would, use a hundred different names. 

I established myself at the hotel, sat down before 
the door, from where a beautiful view over the sea, 
with its numerous white sails of fishing-boats, might 
be seen, and ordered a cup of coffee. 

The daughter of the landlord, a pretty blonde, of 
about twenty years of age, soon appeared with the 
beverage, and slowly drawing out my purse and being 
careful to tender her a large piece of money, so that 
she would be obliged to furnish change, I inquired 
whether the house was entertaining many guests at 
present. 

“Not so many as we usually have at this time of the 
year,” was her reply. 

“Why?” I inquired. “Can you give or suggest any 
reason for it?” 

“I do not know,” was the answer, “at other seasons 
guests come here and stay two or three months, and 
now it has happened already twice that they leave 
after having been only two or three days on the isl- 
and.” 

“That is strange. I am sure that the guests cannot 
be dissatisfied with your hotel; everything here looks 
so inviting and comfortable, and your coffee I notice 
is so far above excellence, that I should think no other 
enjoyment would be equal to that of passing an en- 
tire summer here.” 


MILORD LOSES THE GAME AT LAST 15t 

The pretty Heligoland girl was flattered, and as 
this was the hour at which the other guests took their 
siesta , we soon were engaged in a lively conversation, 
and she told me that three days before, a rich En- 
glishman, who did not look at all like being in need 
of taking the baths for restoring his health, had ar- 
rived at the island; that he at once had inquired what 
was the shortest way to reach England from there. 
“And,” she continued, “when my father had told him, 
he ordered a sailing vessel to be ready in the morn- 
ing.” 

“A sailing vessel!” I said, in astonishment. 

“Oh, yes!” was the reply; “oftentimes, guests who 
do not wish to return to Cuxhaven by steamer, take 
a sailing vessel here, and our sailors are able to ex- 
actly calculate with the weather, when the steamer 
is due at a certain point. They generally reach the 
point at the exact time, and the passenger is taken 
on board the steamer, in that way going direct from 
here to England. Many do that in order to save 
the trouble of having their goods examined by the 
custom-house officers.” 

“And that is a very good reason, too,” I said, laugh- 
ingly; “but your rich Englishman could not have had 
that same motive. What strange behavior! You 
say he did not look ill?” 

“Not in the least ill! His dark, black eyes glistened 
with all the brightness of health, and, although he 
must have really been a man of about fifty-five, yet 
he looked as strong as a man of forty.” 


152 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


“Did he have a heavy mustache?” 

“Yes! Do you know him?” 

“I do not think I do, but I remarked a gentleman 
in the hotel at Cuxhaven who nearly answers your 
description. Do you know his name?” 

“He did not register his name, as he did not stay 
over night. But ‘ Dumont’ was painted on his trunks.” 

My heart bounded with joy. This was my man, 
but I did not intend to betray to the girl the interest 
I felt in her gossip. 

Therefore I changed the subject and paid her a 
compliment upon her lovely complexion. The sweet 
child of nature blushed, and at last remembered that 
she had something to do in the house. 

She left me and I was alone, as I desired to be, to 
think over my discovery and arrange further plans. 
My fear that he had left for America was groundless. 

This was a great step gained and I began to enter- 
tain a very lively hope of final success. 

It is needless to say that I went at once to the 
shore and engaged a sailing vessel to be ready that 
same evening to convey me to the English steamer, 
and that on the next day I disembarked in London. 

My first step then was to find out if any particu- 
larly fine diamonds had been sold in the city, for I 
might thus be put on the direct trail of the criminal. 
Inquiring through the elegant establishments of Pic- 
cadilly I learned that a German had been in one of 
the principal stores, looking for a watch; he had said 


MILORD LOSES THE GAME AT LAST 


153 


that he wanted to buy a cheap watch, as he intended 
to make a trip to Rio de Janeiro, where he was con- 
nected with a diamond-brokerage firm in the Riosdos 
Ourives, and that he did not want to purchase an ex- 
pensive time-keeper, for the salt air would only spoil 
it. 

The jeweler asserted that he was acquainted with 
the Rio de Janeiro firm his German customer men- 
tioned; had sold him the watch, and, as he wished 
to trade a couple of diamonds, he had paid him the 
balance due on the stones in cash. He further said 
that the German seemed to be very wealthy, as he 
wore most magnificent diamonds. 

The description of this man answered so perfectly 
with that of “milord” after he had shaved off his 
beard, that all doubts vanished from my mind and 
I asked the jeweler if he knew where this party could 
be found. He did not know, but promised to advise 
me as soon as the man entered his store again. I 
gave him my address and requested him to exercise 
the greatest prudence and promptness. 

Hardly had I entered my hotel when a clerk from 
the store came hurrying in and inquired for me — I 
was to return at once. I jumped into a cab and has- 
tened back, then entered the store in the careless way 
of a casual customer and — 

Yes! “milord” was standing there before me. 

As though just thinking of it I sauntered to the 
door, paid and dismissed the cabman, then returned 


154 


The league of guilt 


to the counter and inquired of the jeweler if he could 
furnish me with a solitaire diamond of unusual size, 
to replace one lost from a set of jewelry belonging to 
my wife. 

The merchant replied that he was not certain that 
he had any or one just such as I desired, in his stock 
at that time, but he was sure, he said, that he could 
procure one in a few days. 

“Milord” had, as I intended, overheard us, and in a 
few moments he made an excuse' to call the jeweler 
aside, and told him that he had a large solitaire stone 
in his possession and was willing to dispose of it if 
they could agree upon the price. He would go and 
get it and return in the afternoon. The store-keeper 
promised to make the purchase under certain condi- 
tions, and the German gentleman departed. 

I now instructed the jeweler to be sure and buy the 
diamond, and to arrange in some manner that he 
would be certain to have the customer call again in 
a couple of days, when I also would be there, but 
so disguised that the man would not know me. The 
diamond was bought, according to agreement, and 
when in the evening it was taken from the trashy 
setting in which “milord” had inserted it, we found 
in it a very slight flaw. 

At once I sent a dispatch to Signor Amalfi, at Na- 
ples, and soon received the following answer: 

“Solitaire has small flaw at under part. I remember 
now that milord had one of his front teeth, upper row, 


MILORD LOSES THE GAME AT LAST 155 

filled with gold. Do your best. We will pay any 
reward.” 

The jeweler told me that evening, that the man 
had agreed to return on the next day, before his de- 
parture for Rio de Janeiro, and would draw up a con- 
tract with him for the purchase of some stones there 
for the firm. I was delighted, and requested the jew- 
eler to receive “milord” in his private apartment, and 
to allow me to call upon him the same evening, and 
that he would introduce me to the gentleman. I was 
invited to take supper with the merchant and in that 
way was assured of being on the ground before the 
German should enter, and hence less likely to render 
him suspicious. 

About five o’clock that evening I began to dress my- 
self for the occasion and the part I was about to play, 
and even the most skillful detective could not have 
avoided taking me for a South American. My hair 
at that time was raven black, likewise my mustache 
and imperial and so also my eyes. The proper cos- 
tume I had most carefully studied and arranged, and 
I looked the part to perfection. 

Fully attired I went to the jeweler, who failed to 
recognize me until I chose to make myself known. 
Then we sat down to an excellent supper and were 
just enjoying our after-feast cigars when “milord” 
was announced. 

I was introduced as a cousin of the jeweler, who 
had just arrived that afternoon from Madrid, and we 


156 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


were soon engaged in animated conversation, in the 
course of which milord told me that he intended to 
make a trip to Rio de Janeiro, he having business 
there with a diamond house. 

Strangely enough that very point was also my des- 
tination and I hoped we might travel in company, 
explaining that I had already engaged passage on 
a steamer leaving next Friday (this being Monday), 
from Hamburg. 

“Milord” expressed his regret that we would not be 
companions, but he intended to go with the steamer 
from Liverpool. I did not insist too much upon his 
altering his plans, so as not to arouse his suspicion, 
but hoped to prevail upon him to engage a berth on 
the Hamburg boat. We conversed until late in the 
evening, the jeweler making a satisfactory contract 
with him, and we left arm in arm for the hotel, as I 
declined the invitation of my pseudo-uncle to pass 
the night with him. 

Now I had all possible opportunity to improve his 
acquaintance. We breakfasted together at the table 
d'hote , and, after the meal, as he was picking his 
teeth I carefully noted that one of them, in the front 
of the upper row, was filled with gold. No doubt 
any more! This was my man; and, trusting that I 
might prevail on him to go with me to Hamburg, I 
sent dispatches to Italy to obtain authorization of 
the German government to arrest him there. 

The next day I received the following reply to my 
telegrams: 


MILORD LOSES THE GAME AT LAST 


157 


“ Dispatches are exchanged. Nothing will interfere 
with your plans.” 

I now took a ride in Hyde Park with my new 
friend, and really succeeded, after much persuasion, 
in inducing him to start that same evening with me 
for Hamburg, and to leave there on the next day for 
Rio do Janeiro, and only being compelled to remain 
an hour, at the most, at the starting place. 

His consent gained I hurried to the telegraph office 
and sent a wire to Hamburg notifying them to have 
officers stationed at the pier, then I bought a trunk 
and packed it with papers and old books, and ad- 
dressed it to Don Henriques, Brazil. Next I visited 
Miss Guoni and instructed her to keep me advised of 
every item she could learn regarding the beautiful 
lady of the diamonds. 

Returning to the hotel I found milord actively pre- 
paring for the journey, and by eight o’clock that same 
evening we were snugly stowed away upon the Ham- 
burg steamer, playing chess and talking, and enjoy- 
ing a glass of Burgundy wine, of which my gentleman 
was passionately fond. We passed a few most agree- 
able hours together; my good luck had put me in 
highest spirits, and never in my life did I cross the 
ocean in a more perfectly contented state of mind. 

Arrived at Hamburg, I found the policemen await- 
ing us at the pier. I showed them my mandate, and 
“milord,” to his intense astonishment, indignation 
and disgust, was arrested. 


158 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


The preliminaries for extradition were soon done 
with, and on Monday morning I and two policemen 
left with “milord” for Naples. 

Signor Amalfi’s joy over the arrest of his swindler 
customer was unbounded, he was about to embrace 
me at first sight; but when he confronted milord be- 
fore the court, he was so furious that he drew a pis- 
tol and would have shot the culprit on the spot, if 
we had not by force prevented him from doing vio- 
lence. 

“Milord,” seeing that there was no hope of escape, 
confessed his guilt, and said that, leaving Basle, he 
had taken the road east, over Hohenstein to Schaff- 
hausen, and had proceeded from there north, to Cux- 
haven, not resting day or night. This explained why 
I had lost his track. The lady had gone west, over 
Munchausen to Epinal, and direct to Calais. This 
was all he knew about her. 

He had some diamonds left, others were in the pos- 
session of the woman, who was neither his wife nor 
his daughter; and some stones he had disposed of in 
London. The cash he had with him amounted to very 
nearly 70,000 francs. 

During the trial we recovered some more of the 
diamonds, but the female accomplice got away with 
about 100,000 francs’ worth. Intelligence came from 
Miss Guoni that on the day before she reached Lon- 
don the woman had escaped to Liverpool and from 
there taken passage on a vessel for Rio de Janeiro, 
We never again found trace of her, 


MILORD LOSES THE GAME AT LAST 


159 


“Milord” was condemned to twenty years’ hard 
labor in the galleys at Palermo, where, if he be not 
dead, he is still suffering from the ill success of his 
cunning swindle. The fellow was, however, faithful 
to his confederates; by threats or bribes we could not 
learn from him anything more than his own connec- 
tion with the crime. 

Yet that he had been working for, or with, others, 
was certain, for the diamonds that were recovered 
proved to be from the necklace of the dead mother 
of my employer, Sir Lionel; they had been in his 
family for over two hundred years. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE CURSE IN EGYPT 

The ramifications and mysteries in this wonderful 
case never seemed to cease or grow stale. 

While I was yet pondering on ways and means 
whereby I could make the conviction of this bogus 
Lord Sheffield in some measure a cause of partial 
relief for my worthy employer, Sir Lionel, I re- 
ceived instructions from him to investigate an en- 
tirely new matter, connected with the strange disap- 
pearance of a distant relative of his. Not so distant, 
however, but that the misery of all, however remotely 
linked with the unfortunate family, seemed to be in- 
cluded in thkt far-reaching curse. 

It had been in the spring of the year before that 
this young and distant, but favorite relative of Sir 
Lionel’s had undertaken a journey up the Nile, for 
the purpose of establishing along its shores, business 
connections with the firm in London in which he was 
a junior partner. He was, at the outstart, very success- 
ful, had written most satisfactory letters to his friends 
and the firm, and had sent his betrothed, Miss Alice 
Worthley, many a glowing and enthusiastic account 
160 • 


THE CURSE IN EGYPT 


161 


of the beauties of the Nile, and the peculiarities of 
the people he met. 

In one of the last letters she received he had told 
her that he had hired a boat, called the “Timsah,” 
and intended to start from Bulah farther toward the 
sources of the Nile, and that Reis Tabut, the happy 
possessor of the boat, which was a real beauty of its 
kind, was one of the most polite, gentlemanly men 
he had met with in Egypt. He added that the Reis, 
or captain, made it his business to carry passengers 
up the Nile, and that he even had mastered some 
European phrases; it was very rare, except for the 
dragomans or interpreters, to be so accomplished. 

Miss Alice was deeply interested in these lively 
letters and always longed for the man which would 
bring her tidings of her lover. 

Suddenly the letters ceased to arrive and after sev- 
eral mails were due without bringing a line, then Mr 
Worthley began to share the anxiety of his daughter 
in regard to the fate of the young man. He thought 
for a time that probably the beauty and strangeness 
of the country through which he was passing, so ab- 
sorbed the mind and attention of the lover that he 
did not notice how neglectful he was of his betrothed; 
but most surely something very serious must have 
happened to induce Mr. Landenau — such was the 
young man's name — to neglect his business. 

He was always so active and prompt in all matters 
relating to trade that this silence was more notice- 

League j? 


162 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


able, and Mr. Worthley very soon made up his 
mind that something ought to and must be done to 
find out the whereabouts of the missing. 

The fair Alice further and strongly urged him on 
to action, and likewise insisted upon it, that as her 
father had often promised her that she should see the 
Nile, now was the time for them to make the trip, in 
company with the detective (myself) who was about 
to proceed thither on the same quest, under orders of 
Sir Lionel that every means might be used to trace 
the young man, and if a crime had been committed, 
to bring the criminal to justice. 

It was in August then that Mr. Worthley — provided 
with strong letters to the English embassy at Cairo, 
and an order to institute a strict investigation, and 
to give all required aid to the detective, meaning 
me, and I had powerful papers of my own — left 
London accompanied by his daughter and myself. 

We reached Cairo safely and quickly. The am- 
bassador, impressed by the strength of the letters ex- 
hibited to him, wished us all possible success, and 
sent one of his attaches , who was thoroughly ac- 
quainted with the country, to join our party. 

It was on the ist of October that we embarked 
in the “Timsah” — the very same vessel in which Mr. 
Landenau had made his trip — at Bulah, we pretend- 
ing that our object was to enjoy a pleasure excursion 
up the Nile. 

Now at Cairo I had carefully gathered all the infer- 


THE CURSE IN EGYPT 


163 


mationJ could in regard to the character of Reis Ta- 
but, the man who had conducted Mr. Landenau on 
his journey and of whom such flattering words had 
been written to Miss Worthley. 

All that I could find out from the inhabitants of 
the country concerning this Reis Tabut, was that he 
had the reputation of being a very wealthy man. 
How this wealth was obtained nobody knew, as he 
had commenced his career in life as a poor sailor 
boy, and as all his present riches had been collected 
in a comparatively short space of time. 

Some there were that whispered that rumor said 
he had murdered his wife, but envy of success is the 
same everywhere. Justice, in this country in a most 
primitive state, had never noticed the hint of evil, so 
no charge had been made or proven against him, and 
to all outward appearances he enjoyed the full es- 
teem of his fellow-men. 

The fact that his accumulated wealth had been 
obtained by some mysterious means, rendered me 
rather suspicious in my mind of him, and, after con- 
siderable persuasion, I had induced Mr. Worthley to 
undertake the trip in this same “Timsah,” under the 
captaincy of Reis Tabut, in order that I might have 
ample opportunity to watch and study the man. 

So all matters were arranged to my satisfaction, and 
early on the morning of October ist we lifted anchor 
at Bulah, and soon passed the castle of the viceroy, 
Kasr-el-Nil. I shall not attempt a description of the 


m 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


strange and beautiful country through which we 
passed; acknowledging my inability to do justice to 
such a subject, I shall say that it would take the pen 
of an inspired writer or the brush of an inspired paint- 
er, to depict the sublimities of the scenes with which 
our senses were enraptured. 

Miss Alice stood upon the deck, leaning upon the 
arm of her father. The captain was giving his com- 
mands, in an imperious tone, to the black sailors. 

The young lady leaned toward me and whispered 
in my ear: 

“I must confess, Mr. Bronson” (Bronson was the 
name I had adopted for that trip), “that I felt a hor- 
ror the moment I stepped on board this vessel. 
It is terrible that we should be forced to take this 
particular one, of all others.” 

“I beg of you, miss,” I said, “do not show any dis- 
trust. Only be very polite, and by showing that we 
have not the least suspicion, we may discover some- 
thing important. Above all, do not let slip your 
name or a hint of the object of our travel, to any- 
body.” 

I should mention here that we had engaged, at 
Cairo, a dragoman who had been recommended to 
us and who had several times made the trip with 
English tourists, among others, Mr. Landenau. 

We agreed that Miss Alice would remain on deck 
with the dragoman, who had already spread an ele- 
gant carpet for her, and that w§ should go below, 


THE CURSE IN EGYPT 


165 


and, unobserved, take a survey of the cabin and as 
much of the interior of the ship as we could. 

Mr. Worthley and I had a conversation in the cabin. 
The old gentleman objected to the plan of our tak- 
ing a vessel which, by its slow progress, would un- 
doubtedly retard the discovery of the crime, if any 
had been committed; and, at all events, would length- 
en the period of anxiety for his daughter, who felt al- 
most sure that some fatal accident or wrong had be- 
fallen her lover. 

“Well,” I said, “I have already told you that the 
information which I gathered about the antecedents 
of the captain is such that, under any other laws and 
administration than rule in this land, the Reis would 
have been arrested, tried, convicted, and hanged. 
It is difficult to learn anything certain from the peo- 
ple here, for no nation on earth contains so many 
and so skillful liars, and yet on the subject of crimes 
they keep such silence that it is next to impossible 
to learn anything or to believe the little you do hear. 
There are not two Arabians living who could be 
bribed to tell you the same thing in the same way, 
even if they were perfectly and similarly informed. 
Believe me, I am convinced that the Reis of this 
boat is an infernal scoundrel, and I hope to prove it 
to you.” 

“Well,” answered Mr. Worthley, “if you are so 
positive about it, I shall not contradict or oppose you, 
and shall leave the management of the whole affair to 
you.” 


166 


THE LEAGUE OF GUlLt 


“You will be doing yourself a service, sir, and me 
a favor,” I replied, “and this will really be the only 
way to accomplish anything.” 

I then went quietly, watchfully, over every portion 
of the ship to which I could gain access, but failed to 
find anything that seemed to afford the least clew, and, 
fearing that the Reis might notice the closeness of my 
inspection, I went on deck and talked for a while with 
Miss Alice, and requested her to tell me the whole 
story of the disappearance of Mr. Landenau, so far 
as she knew it. “For,” I said, pleasantly, “your father 
seems to be more communicative with you than with 
me, and yet, for my intelligent working of the case, 
it is absolutely necessary that I should know every 
particular that is known to anyone else.” 

“You are right,” she said, “and I will tell you all I 
know, and what my father found out in Cairo. 

“Mr. Landenau went to Egypt in the interest of 
my father’s firm. He had formerly had connections 
in the wool trade and wished to re-establish them, 
and at the same time get Orders for steam engines for 
the Delta. Our unfortunate Wilibald conceived the 
foolish idea of going down the Rosette River in this 
vessel, alone, while his companion was left to join 
him at Tanta or Dessak, as soon as he should sent a 
dispatch. Probably he was induced to do so on ac- 
count of the uncomfortable hotels along the shore. 

“He made the engagement with this Reis Tabut, 
and left Cairo aboard this ship. In vain his com- 


THE CURSE IN EGYPT 


1G7 


panion waited for his dispatch, in vain he looked for 
him in all the cities on the branch river of the Nile, 
or inquired for him at all the railroad depots. No- 
body had seen him.” 

Here the poor girl sobbed for a few moments, but, 
wiping away her tears, she continued: 

“When this companion of our friend looked for the 
Reis, he found him, several weeks afterward, sitting 
quietly on the deck of this vessel, tied up at the shore 
of Bulah. The Reis was summoned to the consulate, 
and declared there, with the greatest calmness, that 
the Inglisi (Englishman) had gone ashore in the even- 
ing at Tanta, and that he had not returned. The 
Reis had waited for his passenger several days and 
had then put back to Cairo. When he was asked 
where the baggage of the Englishman was, he replied 
that it was in the cabin, waiting for the owner’s re- 
turn, and the payment of the balance of the passage 
money, as only one-half of it had been paid in ad- 
vance. 

“The luggage had not been touched. It contained 
neither money nor valuables, and yet we all knew 
that he had a very considerable amount of cash with 
him. They found also his diary, which had been 
kept up till the day of his disappearance. From the 
Reis, or any of his men, no information of any kind 
could be obtained. 

“Now I have told you everything I know, and I 
hope you will be as explicit with me. Tell me all 


168 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


you know and do not fear that, as I am a woman, I 
am not fit to be trusted with everything, and cannot 
assist you most materially. I wish to co-operate with 
you in your researches, and, should it be deemed ad- 
visable, I will disguise myself as a man and assist 
you in tracing the crime and punishing the villains.” 
She reached out her hand and I gave it a hearty 
grasp in sympathy and admiration. 

“Miss Worthley,” I said, “in return for your full 
confidence, I will tell you all f know, although some 
of it may not be very pleasant news for you to hear. 
The worst of the case is, that, as I was told in 
Cairo, just at the time Mr. Landenau was there, they 
celebrated, in Tanta, the feast of the holy Said-el- 
Bedui, a feast which, in its cynicism, its brutality, is 
a disgrace even for this low-cultured people, an orgy 
to which hundreds and thousands of the most aban- 
doned from Asia and Africa flock together. 

“It is probable that Mr. Landenau did not know 
anything about this festival, and it may be that he 
was led there by curiosity. So much is sure, that the 
Reis and two of his men rowed him, in a boat, up 
the canal to Tanta, and left this vessel in the Nile in 
charge of the rest of the crew. 

“Now, it seems to me a suspicious circumstance 
that the Reis should accompany Mr. Landenau him- 
self. He says that he was obliged to watch over the 
safety of his guest. He testified, at the consulate, 
that he had arrived in the evening at Tanta, and 


THE CURSE IN EGYPT 


160 


that the Inglisi , surprised and enticed by the festive 
appearance of the city, had at once disembarked, and 
before the Reis could follow him, had disappeared in 
the crowd. After offering his prayers, as a good 
Mussulman, at the grave of the great saint, Reis Ta- 
but had gone to the dance of the Gavazzi, hoping to 
find his passenger — but in vain, he could not see the 
young man. 

“On the next morning, Mr. Landenau had not re- 
turned. The Reis held his boat there for five days, 
until the festival had passed and the crowds dispersed. 
When his passenger did not appear he went back to 
his large vessel in the Nile, without notifying the 
Muldirich (the government) of the disappearance. 
This fact, I confess, excites my greatest suspicion. 
He returned to Cairo, and even then he did not say 
anything about the disappearance of his passenger, 
and quietly awaited his pleasure to come after his lug- 
gage and pay the remainder said to be due upon his 
passage. The two men who rowed Mr. Landenau 
and the Reis to Tanta are not to be found; nobody 
knows where they are. 

“Another circumstance came to my knowledge, 
which I would rather not tell you, but, being con- 
vinced that it is a lie, I will give you the full story if 
you desire it.” 

“Mr. Bronson,” said the young lady, “I want you 
to tell me everything, everything. I am convinced 
that only half, at the most, of what these Egyptians 


170 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


say is true, and their tales cannot shock me or their 
lies destroy my faith in our poor friend.” 

“Well, then,” I replied, “the gossip of the affair is 
this. The Kaffir, or watchman of the boat, declares 
that he had been left behind by the Reis to guard 
the boat; that he in the evening had gone ashore and 
was lying, half asleep, near the craft. Suddenly he 
observed an Egyptian woman, dressed with the great- 
est elegance, enter the boat, and a little while after- 
wards the Inglisi followed her. They remained in 
the boat for about an hour and then the two left to- 
gether. The woman was carefully veiled and the 
only particular point the Kaffir can remember was that 
she wore a gold-embroidered mantle, with red silk 
schitingan (wide, female trousers), and a faradyeh 
(head-apparel) around her hair. 

“It is my opinion that the woman is a myth; that 
the Kaffir has been bribed by the Reis to tell this 
story, as he knew very well that the Eygptian mag- 
istrates are very careful not to pry into the secrets of 
the seraglio of a pasha, and they could very easily 
judge, from the description given of the dress, that a 
woman of high rank had been involved in the mys- 
tery. 

“However, let us carefully watch this Reis Tabut, 
and, as our aim is Tanta, I hope that we will either 
find Mr. Landenau, or at least some traces of him.” 

Miss Alice sighed wearily, but could make no reply 
as the Reis and dragoman approached at the moment. 


THE CURSE IN EGYPT 


171 

The former inquired whether there was anything 
wanting for our own comfort, and politely expressed 
his desire that we would tell him frankly if anything 
did not please us 

While he was speaking, the Reis, who certainly 
was a handsome fellow, seemed to notice that the 
eyes of Miss Alice were intently bent upon him, and 
a look of gratified vanity rested for a moment on his 
face, his hands sought his long black mustache and 
he curled it with an air of consummate dandyism. 
The young lady turned deathly pale at that moment 
but hung her head so that the Reis failed to notice 
the change in her countenance; he was just then talk- 
ing to me. As soon as he had left, Miss Alice whis- 
pered in my ear, “I have found a trace; let us go 
down into the cabin.” 

We arose, and exchanging a few pleasant words 
with the dragoman as we passed him, joined Mr. 
Worthley in the cabin. 

The poor girl then told us, amidst her sobs, that 
the Reis wore a ring on his finger, one of the stones 
of which had been part of the settings of the sleeve- 
buttons of Mr. Landenau; she was very certain of 
it. It was a round turquois, set in white, gold- 
seamed enamel. 

I conjured her to guard most carefully against show- 
ing the least sign of suspicion, as a meaning glance 
might serve to render the man doubly cautious, and 
I promised her to find out, in the evening, how he 
came in possession of the stone. 


1?2 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


I hardly considered this discovery as any clew to a 
crime. I argued that it was not probable the Reis 
would be fool enough, if he had committed murder or 
even robbery, to wear the overwhelming, easily-rec- 
ognized proofs as ornaments upon his person. How- 
ever, such an oversight has been frequently made by 
otherwise deeply cunning criminals and the small- 
est trifle has led to the discovery of the blackest mis- 
creants. 


CHAPTER XV 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 

I shall be short in the narration of my further ex- 
periences on board the vessel, and briefly state the 
conversation I had with the captain in the evening. 

The Reis and dragoman were sitting on the 
deck; I approached them and made a few remarks 
on the beauty of an Egyptian sunset. 

Reis Tabut at once exclaimed, “Za Volet!” and 
soon a boy appeared with a precious Turkish pipe, 
which he, gravely bowing, placed before me. 

I complimented the captain on the beauty and ele- 
gance of his vessel, and smoked the delightful, mild 
narcotic of the Egyptians. 

The Reis seemed highly flattered and curled his 
mustache, as he invariably did under such emotions, 
and the stone spoken of by Miss Alice glittered in my 
eyes. 

“The Reis,” I said to the dragoman, “is not only a 
very handsome man, but he seems also to be very 
wealthy. I see a precious stone upon his finger, which, 
in our country, is only worn by people who are very 
rich.” 

Reis Tabut accepted this as another well deserved 

in 


174 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


compliment, and with a smile of intense satisfaction 
he favored us with the following narrative: 

“I have a little bag, filled with such stones, re- 
ceived as a present from a friend of mine of the Lib- 
anon. They are not so large as this one, which I re- 
ceived from an Inglisi ; he was my guest. I brought 
him, some two months ago, to Tanta, and he gave 
me this stone, as the other one, which he wore in his 
shirt-sleeve, had fallen overboard. 

“The poor Inglisi ,” he continued, with a groan, 
“never returned. I lost sight of him at the festival 
of Tanta. Allah alone knows where he is. We have 
sought for him in vain, but,” he added, mysterious- 
ly, “there was a woman in the case. May Allah pro- 
tect his soul! He was a handsome man!” 

“Who was this woman ? Have you any idea of a 
love affair? I would like to know something of your 
love-making ways, in Egypt,” I asked, insinuatingly. 

“Well, let me tell you. Many a distinguished and 
wealthy lady comes to the festival, even the wives of 
Emirs, the princesses of India; and you may rely up- 
on it that everything done there is not just as it 
should be. The young Inglisi was, as I told you, 
a very handsome man, and therefore something may 
have happened which he did not expect. 

“But excuse me now. This evening, we shall draw 
the vessel ashore, and when the fanus (lantern) burns, 
I will tell you what I heard about him at Tanta, It is 
a very interesting story,” 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 


175 


He withdrew, and I was left alone, in doubt whether 
I had to deal with an innocent man or a rascal of the 
sharpest kind. 

It was evening, and we were all sitting upon deck. 

I shall not go into poetical raptures on the delights 
of an evening in this dreamy clime, or the way in 
which the Egyptian spends these hours of idleness, 
but only mention the loveliness of the moments, as 
it is important to the comprehension of what is re- 
lated afterward. 

The boy who had brought me the pipe in the morn- 
ing, and whose graceful form I had then admiringly 
noticed, was sitting on the forward part of the deck, 
entertaining passengers and crew with songs, rendered 
in that melancholy, complaining strain so essential to 
Egyptian melodies. At the end of every strain the 
crew broke out into a deep “Ah;” and even the Reis 
exclaimed, “Tahib ja Volet!” (Good, my boy) and 
the youth began again, in a very girlish voice. 

At last the Reis commenced his story, giving us a 
very glowing account of the splendor of the festival 
of Tanta, to which thousands from all classes of people 
flocked from every section of Asia and Africa; and at 
last he came to the, to us, essence of the narrative, 
and told how he had seen the Inglisi among the fes- 
tive crowd. 

“It is not good,” he said, lowering his tone, “that 
a foreigner ventures himself in this throng, for it is at 
the same time a festival for our women. It is not 


m 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


good, for many rich and distinguished of our women 
flock thither; as no husband is allowed to forbid them 
going on a pilgrimage to Tanta, whither the prophet 
sends his angel. However, many of these husbands 
are jealous, and secretly send tawaschi (spies) after 
their women, and it is not easy for a woman to es- 
cape the eyes of the tawaschi, and it has often so 
happened that strangers have paid with their lives for 
the gallantry of an hour. 

“So, I am told, the Inglisi mingled with the believ- 
ers, and misfortune would have it that a beautiful 
young woman was in love with him; she was the 
wife of an Emir, who had just come from the 
mosque. 

“Maybe the Emir has taken revenge on him for the 
flirtation. At all events, the Inglisi , after that 
evening, was seen no more, and although the 
court seemed anxious to hold me responsible for him, 
I could not say anything more than I knew, and 
though they tried me, they were forced at last to de- 
clare my innocence. My friends had seen me that 
evening in the dancing-houses, and I could give the 
clearest evidence that it was impossible that I should 
have done anything toward the disappearance of the 
young man.” 

This story was told with such apparent simple 
truthfulness that I was again rather inclined to think 
the Reis innocent in the matter. But I still mistrusted 
him sufficiently to keep a close watch upon him, and 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 


177 


Miss Alice’s presentiments, she informed me, told 
her that he and none other was the murderer. 

A woman’s instincts in such cases very seldom mis- 
lead and I was much inclined to trust them here. 

We were soon near the Seray canal, which leads 
to Tanta. Mr. Worthley requested the Reis to ac- 
company us in his small boat to that place. He 
seemed at first not very well pleased with the propo- 
sition, but as we said we would entrust our safety 
to no one but him, the flattery secured him, and he 
exclaimed: 

“Tahib! I go with you to Tanta, and I wager my 
head that no evil will befall the kawacha (foreigner) 
and his beautiful child.” 

We arrived at Tanta. Again a festival was being 
celebrated there; but this time one of less importance 
than the one so unfortunate for the young Inglisi. 
We passed over a market place and saw young women 
laughing at all morality or decency, and so passion- 
ately gesticulating that Miss Alice turned away her 
head in disgust. They were very indecorously dressed, 
but, I must confess, they were wonderfully handsome. 

In Tanta, my real detective labors commenced. 
All I had gone through, as yet, was only an intro- 
duction, although it had enlightened me on so many 
points that the case was clear before my eyes as 
though I had made the journey with Mr. Landenau 
to Tanta; and now we were on the field of action, 
where the crime, if any, had been committed. 

League iz 


178 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


Mr. Worthley and his daughter secured apart- 
ments in the same hotel where I and the attache of 
the embassy had taken up our quarters. This young 
man spoke the Egyptian language fluently, and was 
of great service to us. We concluded that we would 
go out together and see all that was to be seen, 
partly for curiosity’s sake, but chiefly because I 
wished to watch the Reis and see the society he fre- 
quented. In the evening we went into one of the 
dancing-houses. Reis Tabut was there; he was 
swimming in a sea of voluptuousness. The women 
called him El-Zarif (the handsome), and the men 
gave him the name of Abu-Dahab (the father of 
gold). He was proud of these names and evidently 
meant to keep up a reputation worthy of them. 

The Reis had deemed it more to his taste not to 
sleep in the boat, and therefore took up his quarters in 
a house in which a company of gawanis (singers) and 
gawazzia (dancing-girls) were among the guests;- and 
as soon as evening came the ground floor of the house 
was crowded with men and women, who passed the 
night in singing Egyptian songs and applauding the 
dances of the gawazzis. 

The favorite of all these favorites was Reis Tabut; 
he richly rewarded their efforts, threw the most beau- 
tiful roses at their feet, when they in the bee-dance , 
looked very passionately for bees in their garments; 
and he staggered home when dawn came, and, tired 
of lust, stretched himself out to sleep. 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 


179 


His friend, the dragoman, was not allowed to be 
absent; he had to share most of the enjoyments of 
the Reis. Adriani, however, acted with prudence and 
self-command. He stole away before midnight, and 
the Reis reproached him that he had, somewhere in 
the city, his particular friends whom he had concealed 
from him. 

Days passed on in this way. We went one even- 
ing to this, another evening to that house, and from 
time to time, Miss Alice gave me a very minute de- 
scription of all the valuables Mr. Landenau had 
taken with him ; among others, she described a port- 
folio of Russia leather, on which she had embroidered 
his monogram in gold thread. 

It was the fourth evening of our stay. We entered 
a dancing-house and my attention was at once at- 
tracted to a particularly handsome young girl. As 
she came near to me I was astonished to see that she 
had, on the girdle of her waist, the monogram de- 
scribed to me by Miss Alice. 

My eyes just rested upon it for a second, but the 
recognition was complete, then I seemingly turned 
away, but never lost that girl from my sight. To 
watch her I took up my quarters in the same house, 
and dispatched my assistant, the employee of the 
embassy, to call for a man with whom I had made an 
acquaintance the evening before. 

This man’s name was Abdul-Safet. He was one 
of those jolly Egyptians who amuse the crowd by 


180 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


their tricks and songs, and appeared, in all his ac- 
tions, to be a straightforward and honest man. 

I was soon in close conversation with him, as he 
spoke and understood considerable English, and, 
taking him out to another house, I asked him plump- 
ly if he knew anything, and what he knew, about Reis 
Tabut. 

He said that he knew much more about the Reis 
than he would be willing to put into words, because 
as yet he had not the proofs to sustain his assertions; 
but that he was jealously watching him and that so 
soon as he procured evidence, he would deliver him 
to justice, as he strongly suspected him of having as- 
sassinated his daughter, who was the first wife of 
Reis Tabut. 

Here I had found a splendid ally — a man who was 
an Egyptian, who was thoroughly acquainted with 
the people, and one whose own interest it was to con- 
vict the Reis. 

I told the man my story, attested that I strongly 
suspected the Reis and the dragoman of having been 
confederates in the crime, and enjoined upon him to 
tell me every new fact that came under his notice, 
but to be very careful not to expose our secret by ex- 
cess of zeal. 

He promised to obey my instructions to the letter, 
and when I saw him entering the dancing-house with 
the embassy employee, before he was noticed by any- 
body, I soon met him, took him out doors, and asked 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 181 

him if he had learned anything new. He said that 
die had discovered that the Reis was in possession of 
the second turquois, set in white enamel, or at least, 
he was acquainted with the woman to whom the 
Reis, shortly before, had given it. 

Here was positive evidence against the Reis, and 
I insisted upon it that he knew what had become of 
young Landenau, so I set others at watching him. 

One day, Reis Tabut disappeared. Two days later 
Abdul-Safet came to me with a strange storp. 

He had shadowed Reis closely and he had learned 
all of his secret. The entire woman story was a 
myth. A veiled woman had been a passenger on the 
boat during its first trip, she had been watching Lan- 
denau — she had hired Reis to abduct him and convey 
him to a lonely house out in the country. The story 
Reis told was a fabrication. He had robbed Lan- 
denau and this mysterious woman had paid him richly 
for his share in the plot. 

I asked Safet how he knew all this. He said he 
had followed Reis to the lonely house in question. 
He had overheard Reis talking with the woman in 
charge, who had told him that the woman had de- 
parted a month previous with her prisoner for London. 
The prisoner was drugged all the time. She handed 
Reis a letter. Safet had followed Reis. He had 
sprung upon him, a fight ensued. Reis, discovered and 
beaten, had fled. He had come to me — with the letter . 

That letter! How I trembled as I opened it. 


m 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


Ah, at last the mystery was revealed. In a flash 
I recognized the handwriting as that of the mad 
woman I had tracked so fruitlessly — 

Lady Barchester! 


CHAPTER XVI 


A TERRIBLE PLOT 

Two days later I was on my way to England. Time 
was money and I spared no expense to secure rapid 
transit, for human happiness and human lives de- 
pended on my reaching England by a certain time. 

I left the Worthleys to follow me, for I could not 
submit Alice to the hardships of the quick journey 
I had blocked out. Safet had promised to try and 
find Reis and hand him over to the authorities al- 
though I had little hopes of his succeeding, for I was 
satisfied that Reis would abandon boat and friends 
and fearing arrest would fly to obscurity with a fort- 
une that was the reward of perfidy. 

The reader will understand all from the letter I 
have referred to. It told all and it read: 

Reis Tabut, 

Circle of Secrecy, Number 42: — 

You are the last surviving free member of the con- 
federation of crime that I organized ten years ago to 
consummate my vengeance on the race I hate. 

The law, accident and pestilence have removed the 
others. In eight foreign countries I had my emissaries. 
All were faithful to the last, you alone are left. You 
I reward and this letter will contain an order on city 
183 


184 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


bankers for five thousand pounds — the sum I prom- 
ised you. 

For ten years I have cruelly, relentlessly pursued 
my plans of vengeance — the irrational vengeance of 
a mad woman you will say. So be it. Crazed by 
the remorse of my own awful crime of murder, I 
traced to the opposition of my husband and his 
friends the cause of it all. I learned to hate all hu- 
manity, my own family most of all. Supposed to be 
dead I was really secretly imprisoned as a lunatic. 
I escaped, taking with me a royal fortune represented 
by the family jewels. 

Then I gathered about me trusted allies. We rev- 
eled in gigantic crimes — robbery, forgery, assassina- 
tion — and every time we succeeded I gloatingly sent 
accounts of the crime to Sir Lionel, to wrench his 
heart as my miseries had tortured mine. 

I evaded arrest, but my emissaries were less fort- 
unate. A skilled detective has baffled them — many 
were apprehended. Alone, wearied, I at last abandon 
the exciting career that kept remorse at bay, to 
wreak a final vengeance — and die! 

Latterly I had resolved to strike nearer home. 
This Landenau,a favorite relative of Sir Lionel, is my 
first victim. We plotted to abduct him, and now, a 
drugged captive, I take him to England. Once there 
I shall imprison him securely. He will be my 
hostage. If I am apprehended by Sir Lionel I shall 
threaten Landenau’s death. This will allow me to 
plot and execute boldly. 

Meanwhile, covertly yet surely I shall develop the 
plot that is to engulf every member of my family in 
a terrible fate. The death of my darling child shall 
be expiated by a crime involving the death of scores 
of people. 

But I anticipate. This , all this, is my secret. You 
remember the two phials of poison that you secured 


A TERRIBLE PLOT 


185 


for me at such great cost — you remember the tiny 
cartridges of explosives I possess. These I shall use 
and — 

Adieu, faithful emissary of a generous patroness, 
adieu. 

What could I think of this strange, unsigned 
epistle ? 

I recognized at once the handwriting. Sir Lionel 
had shown me his wife’s letters and I knew I could 
not be mistaken. 

The woman was indeed mad, but with a strange 
and tragic method in her lunacy. 

She had committed crime for its excitement — to 
drown remorse, and yet filled with the idea that in 
some way Sir Lionel and his relatives were responsible 
for the crime she had committed years agone — the 
murder that had led to the death of her darling child. 

Now all her erratic career of crime had terminated 
in a direct attack on the affections of Sir Lionel as, 
formerly, she had assailed his peace of mind. I 
dared not tell Alice Worthley the truth. I only said 
that I had found a clew to her affianced husband and 
promised to find him before her return there. 

But what was the terrible final vengeance that the 
mad woman meditated? 

I knew that hers was no idle threat. The past, 
with its unique plots, its marvelous complications, con- 
vinced me that the menace was a fearful one. I only 
hoped to. arrive in England in time to warn Sir Lionel, 
to prevent a catastrophe that might involve the death 
of scores of innocent people. 


186 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


I reached the shores of England after a rigorous 
and exhausting journey. It was nightfall when I 
neared the stately home of Sir Lionel. 

Waltham Manor had never looked so weird to me 
as in the faint moonlight that silvered the fair scene. 

I crossed the grounds in haste, taking a short cut; 
as I neared the house, glancing up at the windows, I 
saw that the apartment used by Sir Lionel as a read- 
ing-room and library was brilliantly lighted. 

Just then the front portals were opened. A flood 
of light revealed a veiled female figure. 

She was admitted. My heart throbbed violently. 
Could it be the woman I had shadowed so long and 
fruitlessly ? 

At that moment, as I stepped forward, I stumbled 
and fell headlong. 

My foot had caught on a tiny wire, there was an 
ominous snap, a blue flame flickered weirdly in the 
grass and — 

A tragic plot was revealed to my astonished eyes 
and I understood / 


CHAPTER XVII 


IN TIME 

Yes, I understood. For weeks my mind had been 
full of this strange woman, Lady Barchester. During 
the rapid journey from Africa I had pondered over 
all the details of the past and incessantly wondered 
what her allusion to the two deadly phials and the 
terrible explosive could signify. 

Now, assuming that the woman just admitted to 
the Manor was the object of my solicitude, I realized 
that I had arrived in time to prevent at least one part 
of her diabolical plot from being put into execution. 

The wire I had stumbled over was a tiny one. As I 
took it up in my hand I followed it. On the slender cop- 
per wire, at intervals tiny cartridges were placed. One 
of these had exploded when my foot came in contact 
with the wire. The wire led around the edge of the 
mansion and ended under a window. Here it was 
fastened to a large, black-colored jar. I shuddered 
as I examined it, for it contained sufficient dynamite 
to blow the entire structure to atoms. 

I made sure that the wire was disconnected and 
the dynamite placed where it could do no damage. 
Then I approached the front portal of the mansion. 

187 


188 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


The servant admitted me. He knew me well and I 
had only to inform him in a few words that I wished 
to be shown to the apartment adjoining the library to 
have him noiselessly execute my commands. 

Ensconced in the unlighted alcove I approached 
the curtain that shut off the library. 

In an easy chair sat Sir Lionel. I was amazed at 
his appearance. 

His eyes were sparkling, his face was flushed with 
the most pleasurable excitement. He seemed fully 
twenty years younger than when I had last seen him. 

This ordinarily sedate and even morose man was 
actually smiling, nay, almost laughing. His gaze was 
weird and fantastic, his whole being seemed to be in- 
fluenced by secret joy and hidden mirth. 

Just then, as if in accord with the spirit of merri- 
ment that pervaded the master of the house, uproar- 
ious peals of laughter rang from the servants’ hall. 

I gazed next through the parted draperies at the 
one other occupant of the room. 

1 gazed long and steadily at the faded yet beautiful 
face. I recognized it from portraits I had seen. 

It was mad Lady Barchester. 

I saw her plainly in the brilliant gas-light and I shud- 
dered as I read the power, the cruelty of that firm 
face, she was deathly pale, and amazed — I could see 
that — fully as perplexed as was I myself at the smil- 
ing features of Sir Lionel. 

“Do you know me?” she hissed. 


IN TIME 


189 


Sir Lionel bowed. He smiled placidly, indifferently, 
almost happily, I might say. 

“You know me?” cried the woman. “You recognize 
me — you see me after all these years and you are not 
surprised — moved — appalled !” 

Sir Lionel laughed — a gay, bizarre laugh. 

“We will go to Oaklawn to-morrow,” he murmured. 
“There are some diamonds I wish to purchase for 
you — ” 

“He is mad !” cried the woman — “raving, stark mad! 
There is no doubt of it. Cheated, deluded,” she fairly 
wailed, “of my intended revenge!” 

She advanced a step and confronted Sir Lionel with 
blazing eyes. 

“ I hate you !” she cried ; “ I hate all mankind ! Drivel- 
ler, can you appreciate peril? Every member of this 
household is doomed, first, to certain death by a poi- 
son that I have surreptitiously introduced into the 
food in the kitchen — next, to certain annihilation by 
means of an explosive that I shall set in operation as 
I leave this place. And your relative — Landenau — he 
is imprisoned near here. In an hour a blue light 
will flicker, another and another, and he too will be 
doomed. Mad? Yes, I have been mad for years, but 
at the last you all shall die to satisfy the hatred of a 
mother whom you drove to murder her darling child!” 

She sank back in an arm-chair exhausted. 

And Sir Lionel — he only laughed in idiotic, mean- 
ingless mirth- What could it all mean ? 


190 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


Lady Barchester was very faint. I saw her arise 
and then draw a long, thin phial from her pocket — 
evidently a powerful stimulant — she drained a portion 
and then — 

With a shriek she flung it to the carpet — with dis- 
tended eyes she surveyed it, as she gasped in hollow 
tones — 

“The wrong phial — the wrong phial!” 

I saw her sink to the carpet writhing, I saw Sir 
Lionel regard her unmoved; she shuddered once and 
then — sank back — dead ! 

Yes, the cares, the vagaries, the crimes of this 
poor mad creature were forever over. 

I sprang into the room. I shook Sir Lionel and 
tried to make him understand. He only smiled va- 
cantly. 

“I see it all,” I muttered, in deep excitement, as 
loud laughter rang from the servants in the corridor; 
“this woman had two phials of potent drugs. One 
was a deadly poison, the other a powerful exhilarant, 
she has made a mistake and has taken the poison 
herself.” 

But Landenau! I thrilled as I breathed the name. 
I had prevented the dynamite explosion at the Manor, 
but the mad woman had hinted at a dread fate med- 
itated for her helpless captive. I sped from the man- 
sion. The woman had alluded to blue lights; she had 
doubtless laid a train that would explode in sections, 
timed perchance by some clock-work apparatus. She 


IN TIME 


191 


perhaps intended from the window of the library to 
indicate these tokens of tragedy to Sir Lionel and 
taunt and torment him until the final explosion 
occurred. 

I looked all about the darkened landscape. Sud- 
denly I thrilled. A quarter of a mile distant, near a 
copse, a blue radiance flickered, flared and went out. 
It was my guide. I ran at the top of my speed. An- 
other light flared. I located the spot. It was near 
an old ruined hut. I reached it, glanced in, saw a 
huddled form, caught the outlines of an enormous tin 
can and seized it. A blue light flared again as I 
hurled it into space. 

There was a terrible explosion, and for a time I 
knew no more. 

My story is ended. It is a strange, a tragic, an un- 
reasonable one. The patchwork details of many a 
family history would make as strange a romance. 

Amid her mad vagaries Lady Barchester had dia- 
bolically planned wholesale death and I had been in 
time to prevent a frightful catastrophe. 

I found Landenau a mere shadow. He had been 
drugged almost to imbecility, but he soon recovered 
under proper medical care. The effects of the drug 
the household had taken soon passed away. 

Then I related my marvelous story to Sir Lionel. 
Only to him and to myself were the details of that 
strange narrative ever known. Lady Barchester was 
secretly buried and peace came where turmoil and 
dread had reigned for so many years 


192 


THE LEAGUE OF GUILT 


Alice was married to Landenau that same year. 
In the happiness of these two Sir Lionel tried to for- 
get the dark shadows that had nearly wrecked his life. 


THE END 


















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